Dark Horse

by Jay Swanson

Aims woke up sweating in his bed, feverishly feeling the scars along his arms and back. Scars he always did his best to hide.

  Those five minutes had changed everything. When they found the two boys by the gully both of them were nearly dead, but it was clear that the one had saved the other. And when Chakra woke up a week later, he didn't remember a thing about it. That was the worst part. Chakra didn't remember it. But Aims did. And so did Melina. After that day her eyes had only ever been for Chakra.

  Chakra was the best friend he could ever ask for, and that was why he had let it drop. But Aims had always loved Melina. Now she was dying, and there was no rush to save her. There was no heroic gesture that could stop the black flux.

  He was going to lose her, and she had never even known how he truly felt.

  - - -

  A gentle breeze rustled the leaves overhead, though the larger ones barely moved for their weight. Chakra had never seen leaves like this before, and it left him wondering if he hadn't somehow been whisked away to a place far from the mountains that surrounded his home. He barely made it to the crossroads of worn paths before the topaz on his arm began to glow, the one on his chest reacting to it gently as he raised his hand to point.

  The topaz liked his choice immediately this time, flaring up as his finger aligned with the path wandering off to his left. He smiled, though the butterflies in his stomach belied the sign of newfound confidence. There were yet six pieces of armor to find, and six monsters to face. In spite of how small the monster had been, he was feeling the brunt of the fight.

  He had fought something like that before, he knew. When he was little, he had saved Aims' life from a tree cat. It had come down from the mountains in the summer, something that was considered quite rare in itself. Chakra didn't remember it though. He never had. All he remembered was that was when Melina had come into his life. The little girl who had tended his wounds and sat by his bed.

  Lina... The severity of the situation settled in with newfound profundity. This time I'll be the one looking after you. I promise.

  He began walking down the path the topaz had chosen for him, working his way down from the low hill only to realize that the path continued downward even after that. The brush grew so thick around him that soon he had to kick with his feet to keep the path clear enough to see. He drew his sword, attempting to clear more of the undergrowth as he went before he realized the trees had begun to thin out. He took another swing at a vine, then paused to look around the clearing.

  He barely noticed the blue glow on the surrounding plants before he felt the strike on his forehead. He ducked low as much from shock as from the impact, hot blood already trickling down into his eye as he looked back up to the sky.

  Good gods, he thought, wincing against the pain. What is that?

  There was a dark blur against the stars as a screech broke the silence of the night. Before he could react he felt sharp talons catch him in the back. He pitched forward. A burning pain lanced along the base of his neck, causing him to shout. He twisted to look back the way his attacker must have come.

  Then he saw it coming down at him again. Chakra swung his sword up in a broad arc to knock it from the sky, but the monster averted its attack at the last moment and pulled up, swooping past him and landing in a tree ten yards beyond. He turned to find it in the branches, but it was nearly invisible in the darkness. This seems so terribly familiar... and yet so much worse.

  Chakra stepped forward cautiously, pushing the long fronds of ferns and tangling vines to the side as he approached the tree. He could hear it move, saw the leaves on a branch jostle slightly, and then silence.

  As Chakra came under the branches, he thought he could see its silhouette against the pattern of the twigs and leaves. Then it spoke.

  “What wants the child in the place of men?”

  A long neck protruded from the shadows, its hooked beak yawning broadly as leathery feathers stuck out from around its head. Its wings and body, however, were featherless, and as it stared at him he realized it was covered in dark scales.

  Had it really spoken? “I’m looking for more of these gems,” he said as he lifted his arm hesitantly. “Armor.”

  “Armor for fighting?” The lizard-hawk cocked its head as it stared down at him.

  “To save the life of the person I love most.” Chakra adjusted his stance slowly. The unblinking stare made him nervous.

  “Armor for fighting, ne’er for saving.” The lizard-hawk screeched and launched itself at Chakra. He dropped to dodge the attack, caught off guard and unprepared to strike out with a blow of his own.

  Wrong answer I guess. He rolled over and pushed himself up.

  He swung his sword after the monster as if he could be quick enough to hit it from behind, cursing as he cut nothing but the air. It circled around, its broad wings spanning more than six feet as best as he could tell.

  It’s huge. He swallowed hard.

  The long neck and snake-like tail almost made it as long as its wings were broad. Chakra lowered himself in his stance, propping the blade up at an angle. He tightened his grip as the monster came barreling down on him.

  Nothing Brin had ever taught him prepared him for attacks like this. Still, there was a strange sense that he knew what to do. It spiraled suddenly, folding its wings in at the last second to dive under his sword as he swung out to meet it.

  Well, I thought I knew what to do. Then he cursed as the monster wrapped itself around his legs and struck up at his chest in the same motion. It threw him to the ground and simultaneously clawed all over him with sharp talons.

  “Armor for fighting!” It screamed at him. “Armor for killing! Armor for evil!”

  Chakra rolled, trying to force the monster off him. It clawed his unprotected right arm and snapped at his chin. Suddenly it took back to the air. Chakra got up to his knees. He tried to watch the skies and assess his wounds at once. There were dozens of shallow cuts on his legs and arm, he realized, the fire of each competing for his attention. He moved closer to the tree, hoping to remove the lizard-hawk's ability to attack from above.

  “Why comes child to place of men?” The lizard-hawk called again from the sky. “Why brings steel in place of mind?”

  “I want to save Melina!” Chakra shouted back. “I have to save her!”

  Chakra backed slowly under the canopy, his eyes darting around the sky so quickly he thought he might grow dizzy.

  “Answer now, all truth no lie.” The voice was still circling somewhere in the clearing. “Know you child who sends you neigh?”

  Now we’re rhyming? “I sent myself,” Chakra said. “No one else dared even try.”

  Silence. Then the tree rustled above. He turned in time to see the lizard-hawk scream and dive at him, but couldn't bring his sword around fast enough to defend himself.

  He cursed. Wrong answer again!

  The beast struck him in the face, wrapping its tail around his throat and jerking him to the ground. Its arms and legs wrapped around his head, clawing at him and digging into his scalp as the tail constricted to choke him.

  Air suddenly became an asset that Chakra had no access to, and desperation followed in its absence. His arms flailed to strike at the monster before it sent him into unconsciousness.

  “No child, no. To here you are sent.” The monster was whispering now, just over the sound of the struggle. “Others’ will to which you are bent.”

  Chakra grabbed at it, pulling on the wings until he could grab its neck and strangle it in turn. The lizard-hawk shook with a spasm in response.

  I’ll show you will, you leathery poet!

  The monster’s ferocity only increased as he choked it. It began to bite and claw at the hand that was choking it. Its grip on his head loosened enough for him to pull it away with both hands and squeeze hard at the base of its throat.

  The monster erupted into a flurry of rage against his hands. It bit and clawed and fought with everything it had. He pushed hard on it, away from himself, ignorin
g the searing pain running along the backs of his hands and arms. His mind was turning white hot as he focused on the monster in his grip.

  Chakra forced the grip of the tail free from his throat. “You can’t stop me, you filthy bird.” He rolled quickly then, getting to his knees, and ratcheted his hands in quick circles. He wrung the lizard-hawk's neck until it no longer flapped and fought against his hands.

  He dropped it then, reaching for his sword and hacking the head off for good measure. He was breathing so hard that he didn't realize at first just how badly he was shaking. The wounds on his hands and arms were throbbing with his racing heart, blood oozing out in time and turning his skin black in the darkness. He shuddered once more as he tried to regain control of himself. He was both scared and relieved at the same time.

  The screeching face of the lizard-hawk was still vivid in his memory. The strange words. Who sent me? He thought. I sent me. Flashes of an unnamed fear mingled with those images, those words. Blurred memories long-forgotten drove anxieties he barely knew he had.

  How something so small could do so much damage baffled him. It left him grateful that he had killed the badger-cat quickly. Suddenly he didn't feel so certain he could handle everything that was to come. Neither of these monsters had been like anything he had ever heard of.

  The topaz on his arm glowed as he regained his composure and made his way back to the trail. It was almost impossible to find in the dense foliage, but the topaz glowed again as he stumbled over it. He felt drawn just a little farther on.

  “At least you know where you’re going,” he muttered.

  A lone tree stood at the very center of the clearing, soaring almost twice as high as any tree at its edge. The trunk appeared to be comprised of massive twisting vines that had long hardened into an impassable structure. As Chakra drew closer, he realized the actual tree itself had died and rotted away from the center long ago. At the very center was a hole where the vines had refused to come together.

  Chakra knew without hesitation that what he sought was within that hole, the size of it far larger than he had realized from a distance. Without the topaz on his arm to guide him, however, he knew he would never have found it. It’s like it’s alive, he thought as he looked down at his arm. It’s aware of what’s going on. A thrill ran along his spine at the thought. How?

  A gentle glow emanated from the depths of the tree, the blue of his topaz drawing out whatever was inside. He clasped the sword to his back again. His hand brushed along the thick leather straps, roughened by scratches from the attack of the lizard-hawk. Gods, he thought, but the damage it could have done if I didn’t have this cuirass. Then he hauled himself up to the hole.

  The cuts on his hands and arm protested, but he had little trouble gaining access to the gap. As he finally looked inside he found a massive set of black pauldrons just below the opening.

  He dragged them out and tossed them to the ground with a dull clatter of metal plate, then jumped down to inspect them. They appeared to clasp down in the front over the chest. The topaz rested there in the clasp and glowed happily to be reunited with the others. Teal veins ran out along its surface from the gem.

  Happy, he thought. It really does seem happy to see me. I wonder how long it’s been forgotten here.

  He pulled the sword belt off over his head, then unlatched the clasp and put the pauldrons up over his head. The massive shoulder pads looked like they would fit, but refused to come down all the way to his shoulders. They seemed to tug against the left side of his neck.

  The sack of food! I completely forgot I had it. I hope I didn’t destroy it all. He pulled the pauldrons back up over his head and reached for the rope over his shoulder.

  He tossed the sack on the ground, then lowered the pauldrons into place. They seemed to fit well enough, small clasps protruding into the broad gap around his neck to attach to the cuirass along its top. He secured it as well as he could and then began to move his arms in broad sweeps to see how limiting they were to his range of motion.

  Thankful for the new level of protection, he strapped the sword and sack of food back on over them and began to walk along the path towards the crossroads. He was tired. Nearing exhaustion, he realized as he made his way back. But the strange thing was that the addition of the pauldrons didn't weigh him down. They somehow made his step feel even lighter.

  “Place of men,” he mused aloud as he walked. “Place of mind?” What did that monster mean by all of that?

  The jungle moved steadily past and soon he found himself walking up the low hill from which he had descended. There were a few more paths left to try. He turned around at the top and pointed down the first on his left, one to which he had yet to point let alone follow. The topaz didn't react, so he moved his hand to the next and pointed along it. There was, again, no reaction, and soon he realized that none of the paths illuminated the stone on his arm. He paused, suddenly very worried that somehow the magic was gone.

  He looked up. The sky was lightening. The old man had said there would be no strength to operate once the sun had risen.

  But it hasn't risen... not yet. He turned to look back the way he had come, and instantly the topaz began to glow. He smiled. Perhaps there's more time after all.

  The path turned to the lighter gray stone of the quarry more quickly than he had remembered leaving it, and soon he wound his way back among the sheer walls of the switchbacking trail. As he entered the small quarry and saw its pool, he saw that the statues on his right were no longer alone. Two new statues of knights stood alongside the previous, leaving him to wonder at their sudden presence. Low piles of dust lay underneath them, as if they had been carved straight from the quarry wall while he had been away.

  Two moons again, he thought as he noted opposing shadows growing above the quarry. Though they're on the verge of setting.

  He turned to his right, fighting a yawn as he refused to lose any more time gawking at mysterious statues. He decided to try the farther path, and turned in to walk along its twists and turns.

  Similar to the first path he had taken, this one curved its way back around in an indirect fashion until he felt certain it would rise to the foot of the mountain that rose above the pool. But this path continued downward until it dove under the earth and entered a large cave. The blue of the two topaz on his chest glowed as he walked in, illuminating his path enough that he could pick his way among the loose stones scattered along the floor.

  The desire for sleep nagged him from the edge of his consciousness, the shallow wounds on his arms and legs begging for rest. However the darkness he found himself in brought him back to Melina, to the blackness that was steadily claiming her lungs with every step he took. He couldn't stop. Not now. Not until he had found every piece of armor and secured her safety. There was no one else to help her. No one else to help him. So he pressed on.

  I'm coming back, Lina. I won't let you down.

  Before long he could make out the outline of an exit, the dark blue of the sky beyond lightening steadily as he approached. Soon he was outside, and before him lay a series of paths similar to those he had found on the low hill in the jungle.

  Unlike that low hill, however, the area before him was covered in nothing but sand and red rocks. Some low, prickly plants grew in a wide variety for their sparsity among the rocks, but otherwise the landscape before him appeared rugged and barren. The sky continued to lighten as he raised his arm to point. The topaz glowed dimly in response to his first choice, and no other direction elicited a stronger response than that.

  Already losing you? He looked from the dawn to his arm. I hope that this is the right path.

  Chakra walked in the direction he had pointed, into and among boulders that looked as though they had been carved from the layer of the ground where they sat. He felt like an ant walking into cracks of dry earth. He could feel his exhaustion tugging on his mind, physically suppressing his ability to think straight. The desire for sleep rose to the surface with a vengeance. He f
ought it, willing himself onward with an absolute refusal to slow for anything. Melina needed him now more than she ever had before.

  He needed her as much. If he failed her… he didn’t want to think about that.

  The sun broke over the horizon just as he came through the boulders and found a very clear path break to his right. He raised his arm, pointing along each path in turn, but nothing happened in response to either. He tried again and again, even pointing back the way he had come, but the gemstones remained dormant. He cursed under his breath as he looked down each path in turn, then decided to continue on the one he had been on.

  That was the last indication I had, he reasoned. No point in diverting from it unless I'm told otherwise.

  The path wound its way back into yet more boulders after a brief stretch of open ground, and as his sense of exhaustion grew, he became increasingly uncertain that he had made the right decision. He also began to feel the weight of an impending attack, not knowing from where it would come but knowing that surely it must. His eyes were drying out, making it difficult to see, and soon the desire for sleep was infringing on his willpower to move forward. Then suddenly the ground fell away before him. He had come to a cliff.

  The broad boulders he walked among ran straight to its edge, leaving him nowhere to turn and nowhere to go save backwards or over the drop. The broad canyon that opened before him showed no signs of being easily crossed at any point. He cursed as he turned and began the long walk back. He couldn't be sure how long he had been walking in this direction, but he felt consoled by the fact that the sun had barely cleared the distant horizon.

  The world began to blur at the edges as he crossed the clearing and found the fork in the path he had left behind earlier. He realized that it had only likely been a brief time spent in the wrong direction, and he turned to try his luck with the new one. The path soon led to a very clear patch where no rock or stone stood above the small flat plain.

  At its center rested a dais made of the same stone, and on that dais sat a long piece of black armor. Greaves? He couldn't make them out from here but it looked long enough to fit his legs. Armor before fighting these things would be more helpful...