The Seventh Spirit

by Adam-Clay Webb

  Lex pushed Clover off and sped off in that direction. Kyle and Star looked intently at his speed and the effect of his movement.

  As soon as Lex moved off, Azar appeared.

  “Princess,” Blade greeted.

  “Blade… I told you not to-- Where’s Lex?”

  “Could that be…” Star stared at the vial in the prince’s hands, recognizing it from her readings. Clover stood staring out to where Lex had just run off. The cracks in the ground trailed him. She did not even realize that Azar had reappeared.

  “Girl!” the prince called impatiently, getter her to look his way. “Where is Lex?!”

  She pointed in the direction he had moved into. “He is looking for Zen,” she answered softly, still in tears.

  “Who is Zen? Never mind that. Make sure he gets this quickly,” Azar said. He handed the vial to Star. It weighed her hands down. She looked down at the beautiful artefact, feeling honoured to hold it.

  “Princess, do me a quick one. Get me to Zakashi Village.”

  “How are your forces there?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t been there in almost a decade.”

  “I don’t know how much good swords will do against Trium. I’d send you a few of my sorcerers if you want. Although, Trium might attack areas based on power levels and concentration. If that’s the case, then having sorcerers there could be a disadvantage.”

  “You might be right, but a handful of magicians will sure come in handy and shouldn’t draw too much attention.”

  “It’s settled, then. I’ll send you a few. First I’ll take you to your village – give you a little time to settle in.”

  “Blade,” Kyle said, “I feel like coming with you.”

  “No. Your sister and your friends are here. They will need you.”

  “I know… Whatever happens… don’t get killed.”

  “Once is enough for now. I’ll return alive,” Blade assured. “Make sure Star and Clover don’t get hurt.” Star went up to him and hugged him tightly.

  “That’s enough. We better get going,” Azar hurried.

  “You two be very careful – we’ve lost you once already,” Star said, hugging Azar for a short while. She coughed a bit, taking in the strong scent of expensive perfumes and preservatives used on the dead by the wealthy. With that, Azar took Blade away. Clover still stared dazedly out where Lex had run off.

  Lex! Maximo’s voice blasted in his head. The speeding, fretting boy stopped abruptly.

  Have you found her?!

  Trium. He is coming fast. He will be here in no more than an hour.

  Where’s Zen?!

  I feel her presence, but just barely… Trium’s aura is overpowering it quickly and clouding my judgement… Let’s head west.

  Where the hell is west?!

  ***

  News of Trium’s coming had spread far and wide about the globe, and the most powerful nations in the world were preparing. In Notherland, magicians were posted throughout every square mile of the populated area, accompanied by regular soldiers. Even the army reserve were brought out on standby. Kaleb looked up from his tower, gripping his bronze balcony firmly.

  ***

  The soaked Lex stopped again on Maximo’s instruction. The rain poured harder and harder. Have you found her?! His heart raced with many emotions.

  Trium’s aura is getting more pungent by the second, but the girl is nearby… to our left. Without hesitation, Lex ran off in the advised direction. After a few seconds of running, without needing word from Maximo, the boy stopped dead still. His eyes were wide. His heart thumped even faster and harder. He stared at a soaked, dead-looking, soiled, grey-haired girl. Her eyes were shut, and her dress was no longer white and pretty. Her face was pale and pitiful. Her back rested against a hundred-year-old tree that could barely shelter her from the pouring waters. Suddenly, Lex’s mind flashed back to the first time he saw her, sitting in the cold, dark cell. He wondered for a moment if she would have been better off being left there. He remembered her hugging on to him tightly as he cleared the hill the Araganian Prison sat on. Tears immediately sped down his face. He remembered the promise he had made her.

  Like his senses were suddenly revived, Lex ran to Zen and fell before her, holding her face with shaking hands. Her face was cold. “Zen… Zen… Zen! Wake up!” the boy cried tearfully, his shivering teeth struggling to remain clenched. He caressed her bruised cheeks, unable to accept that she was dead. Clover… Clover did this?! He gently held her frail body and put her to sit up straight against the bark of the tree. He knelt above and before her, her legs stretched out under and between his. “Please, Zen… Come back to me,” the boy sobbed, gently shaking her head. He bowed his head in sorrowfulness, his forehead resting on hers. He cried harder than he had ever cried before. Bitter sorrow filled his heart, and his body grew weak.

  “Damn you… I hate you, Clover… Zen… Please wake up to me…” But the girl’s body would not move. He felt no heartbeat with his shivering hand, no breathing. He shook like the leaves of the tree Zen was resting on. The wind howled and the rain poured down on them, and Lex cried on her. Suddenly, Lex felt no more rain. After a few seconds more of grief-stricken crying, he noticed that though he still heard rain pouring, no raindrops touched him or Zen. He looked up. His eyes widened and his heart skipped a beat.

  He saw rain fall on an invisible surface and roll off to the ground.

  “Lex…” he heard Zen’s soft whisper. He flashed his head back down to her. He watched her eyes slowly open, those priceless, beautiful eyes. He was speechless. His heart thumped rapidly, and he felt a strange feeling through his whole body. Adrenaline rushed through his veins, and tears fell from his eyes even harder. A faint smile graced the girl’s face.

  “… Heaven…” he heard the girl whisper. Still crying, Lex grabbed Zen, hugging her tightly.

  “Zen, thank goodness you’re alive!” Zen wrapped her arms around him with the little strength she could find. Rain poured down on them again. The overjoyed boy grabbed up Zen with such a grasp that nearly stopped her breath, like he planned to never let her go.

  Zen too was crying. She had never felt so peaceful and happy and safe. She was in heaven. “I knew it,” Zen whispered, “My heaven… is you.” They embraced each other tightly for a long moment while rain drenched them from the watchful skies. “I’m sorry Lex… You cut your life short for me…I don’t deserve you… I could never. I don’t deserve this paradise.” Lex could hardly speak. Tears and water flooded down his face. He kissed the girl’s neck and her shoulder. He heard her exhale a blissful sigh.

  “I’m happy, Zen. Don’t be sorry for anything… I came back from the dead… and it seems you did too.”

  Zen gasped, shivering in Lex’s arms. “You mean…”

  “You had me so worried,” he confessed. “Somehow… I found it impossible to imagine a life without you in it.”

  “… … I don’t understand… But this must be heaven,” Zen cried. “I didn’t even imagine heaven would be this perfect… Lex… I’m so in love with you.” Lex’s eyes widened. He couldn’t speak. “Somehow, you end up saving me again,” Zen whispered. Lex put a slight space between him and the girl, and held her cheek caressingly. She was so delicate and flawless to him. He looked into her eyes and raised her chin slightly, and gently and slowly pleasured himself with her soft, tender lips. Squeezing each other tightly, they kissed with all the passion in the world. Zen’s arms were comfortably thrown over Lex’s shoulders. Lex held the beauty by her waist, pulling her still toward him, though there was no space left between them. There was the sweet, wet sound as their lips reluctantly and slowly separated, their eyes still closed in absolute pleasure. Still crying and holding him tightly, Zen rested her head on the chest of the man of her dreams.

  She slowly opened her eyes. Lex looked at them, noticing immediately that something was strange about them. Her eyes were a richer silver colour and even slightly bluish, instead of the very pale grey. Sud
denly, he felt her shaking vigorously in his arms. Her eyes went wild and crazy as she stared up at him. He felt her heartbeat dramatically increase. With great force, Zen pushed Lex off her. He fell, surprised and confused. The girl spun around wildly like she was going mad. She looked up at the grey skies and began laughing uncontrollably. She ran around giddily, swinging around on damp trees.

  “I CAN SEE!” she exploded. “I can see! Lex, I can see again!”

  Lex gasped. His heart leapt with joy and excitement almost equal to Zen’s. He too began laughing. “Are you serious?!”

  Zen turned around and looked at Lex, her level of gladness unrivalled.

  “Oh my gosh!” She ran up to him and grabbed his face. “You’re so pretty!” she gave out. They laughed and pranced and frolicked and played in the pouring rain. Lex scooped her up off her feet like she was his bride, and they kissed again and again, not getting close to enough of each other. Lex lay her down on the muddy ground and went on her, still kissing her feverishly.

  Boy that’s enough! Maximo’s voice pierced through Lex’s head, through his blissful paradise. Suddenly, Lex remembered the reality and his mission as dictated by the sacred prophecies. He sighed heavily. Her arms were still around him. She was so beautiful. A look of seriousness reached his face again.

  “What’s the matter?” Zen asked, sounding very concerned. She pulled him back down on her.

  “We can’t have heaven just yet…Trium is coming today.”

  Zen’s eyes widened. “Wh-What?”

  Lex stood and pulled her up. “Today is the day the prophecies point toward. This day is the reason why I am in this world. We must head back to the others quickly.”

  “Lex.” She grabbed on to him and pulled him back to her.

  “Zen…” He stared into her eyes again.

  “I’ll be by your side the whole time. I have no doubt that we’ll get through this… all of us… You’re my hero… Today you will be the world’s hero. You will be their saviour as you are mine.” Lex smiled. A new confidence was born in him. He grabbed up the girl in his arms quickly and ran off with her. “Lex, wait!” she stopped him. He skated a bit until he stopped completely and put her down.

  “What’s the matter?”

  She went behind him and jumped on his back, giggling, wrapping her legs around his back and her arms around his neck. “The world looks even prettier from up here!” Lex laughed a little.

  ***

  Blade stood on nostalgic grounds, looking forward at the village gates, which hadn’t changed since he had last seen them. The guards at the gate looked out at the distant swordsman, his robes, overcoat and hair flying in the breeze that was sent by the Sansuri Sea many miles away. He watched a young boy run from within the village the gates. He burst through the gate with such speed that the guards didn’t even notice him. His long hair trailed him, and there was a look of strength and resolve on his face. He held in his hand a sword most boys his age wouldn’t be able to lift. Blade shifted himself and looked back, watching the boy disappear into the distance, still running.

  “What the hell’s he lookin’ at? Think he’s a stray madman?” one of the guards asked the other.

  The second guard, with narrowed eyes, stared out at the distant Blade. “Somehow… this man looks familiar,” he said in deep thought. “Look at him… Doesn’t he resemble…”

  “He’s coming,” the second guard said sharply, as he saw Blade slowly move toward them.

  The guards stood firm, gripping their swords in readiness as the approaching man was observably armed. After all, the long scabbard jutted out from over his right shoulder. Blade looked at the perfectly built brick houses beyond the gates. The streets, as far as he could see so far, were exactly as he had left them, except that there were no bloody bodies and crying children littering them.

  “Home,” Blade said to himself, walking toward the guards. He didn’t recognize either of them. The six men he grew up knowing to be the gate guards were the first to be cut down in the disastrous Magmalian onslaught.

  Blade’s stride sped up and he quickly reached the gates. “Greetings,” he approached.

  “Who are you?” the first guard apprehended, sounding inhospitable.

  “Blade… Blade of Zakashi Village.”

  “Don’t mess with us! That’s obviously a lie. Do you know how strong this village is? You think your--”

  “Are you son of Haruyama?” the second guard asked. Blade was silent for a moment. It had been many years since he had heard his father’s name. “I knew it!” the same guard said with a lit face. “Your parents were killed in the invasion nine years ago… You fled the village through these very gates!” Blade held down his head, trying to push away the painful memories.

  “Is that so?!” the other guard asked, a sound of exciting discovery in his voice. “I’ve heard about you… That means you should be an incredibly strong swordsman! You and your brother were the village’s pride, the two prodigies, right?”

  “That’s right,” Blade answered, not sounding as proud as they would have expected. Blade’s feelings toward leaving the village were ambivalent. He felt proud for leaving his village on a noble mission, gaining the trust and support of the first elder, and being given the legendary sword that had been hidden in the village since its beginning. Still, he felt like a traitor, like a coward, an honourless bastard who fled his village when it was weakest, who could not protect the ones that he loved. He had left all his friends behind without any goodbyes.

  “Ferron,” the first guard said to the second, “do you think he might be the one our village chief spoke of?”

  That’s right… The former village chief, my master, was killed… No doubt Lord First is the present chief. “Who did he speak of?” Blade asked the guards.

  “Nine years ago,” the second guard began, “Lord Kabuja, who was the former first elder, officially took up the position of village chief. Everyone was satisfied with his leadership. He was a good and honest man who kept the peace and constantly consoled those who still mourned after the war. He preached to us that a man chosen by fate would return to the village and protect it from grave danger, and restore its power and honour.”

  “Return…” Blade contemplated.

  “He said he would come within ten years. That time’s almost passed, so there’s a good chance it’s you he spoke of!”

  Blade contemplated.

  “Although Lord Kabuja is gone, many still see him as the village’s rightful leader,” the man said, his eyes a bit sunken.

  “Gone?” Blade asked, sounding worried.

  “That’s right. After three years of serving as chief, he was mysteriously assassinated… and Lord Shaman took over leadership, saying it was the chief’s will.

  Blade clenched his fists and his eyes flared with anger. “That bastard…” Surely he was the one who killed Lord First.

  “Trust me, kid, you’re not the only one who thinks so,” the same guard assured, as if hearing Blade’s thought clearly. “But the way he runs things around here, people are afraid to even mention such ideas. He’s totally changed the villagers’ lives for the worse! He even disbanded the council of elders that was set up by our forefathers.”

  He makes sure no one has room to question his power or authority or to do anything about it. “This is unforgivable…”

  “He even convinced most of the village that this man Lord First prophesied about doesn’t even exist, and it was all a trick to bring a bogus hope to the village… Even if it was all a lie, it sure gave us a sense of optimism,” the guard said.

  “As of this day, your name is Blade,” the reminiscent swordsman heard his elder tell him. “This sword is a symbol of the faith the grandmaster had in you… I have in you… the village has in you… Be sure to return to the village in time… or our village’s blood will be on your hands…”

  “Daniel, was it?!” the second guard finally recounted. His sudden shout of that old name brought Blade back to reality.


  “I am the one Lord First spoke of… He gave me the sword I have, and charged me to return and protect my village.”

  The second guard laughed in approval.

  “I don’t care about this prophecy and honour stuff,” the other guard said plainly. “Whatever the case may be, just take that bastard Shaman out of power and bring the village back to what it was!” The guard opened the gates quickly.

  Already a few had gathered to see what was happening. Whisperings began as they saw Blade enter. “Isn’t that the kid who beat up the six elders in the temple ten years ago?” one woman asked her husband. The man looked intently at Blade.

  “Daniel! You’ve returned!” a person gave out. He was about Blade’s age. Blade turned to the voice, instantly recognizing his old friend.

  “Jaku!” Blade greeted, memories rushing back that he didn’t know were still in his head. He ran up to Blade and they greeted how they used to greet when they were children, a fancy handshake that a decade couldn’t erase from their minds.

  “You just ran off like that! Were you and your brother captured back then?! It’s good to see you, man!” Soon, a little crowd had gathered around the swordsman. Word spread swiftly throughout the village of the return of one of its prodigies. People welcomed and greeted Blade happily. He remembered most of them.

  Blade noticed a tower in the distance that he had never seen before. “A village tower?” he asked, gazing up at it.

  “You’ve been gone so long!” a young woman greeted.

  “Yeah, that’s where chief Shaman resides. He’s our leader now,” Jaku answered. Blade walked briskly toward the tower, the crowd giving him way and following closely. Many had already speculated – those who believed Lord First’s words – that Blade was the man he had spoken of. Blade stopped as soon as he could see the face of the man who looked down at him and his followers. There was a look of resentment and umbrage on Shaman’s face. Blade looked up at the familiar face. The high standing man was dressed in kingly apparel, garments that neither the elders nor Blade’s master ever wore while leading their people. They were careful not to create a divide between leader and villager. Blade quickly noticed that the man’s right hand was deformed, and knew that he could no longer wield a sword with it. Blade vividly heard the crack as he plainly remembered severing Shaman’s wrist. Blade drew out his sword and held upward, resembling the statue he gazed upon nine years before, staring up at his uncle.