by Kealohilani
“Haven’t you ever lifted anything over a hundred and nineteen pounds? ‘Cuz it seemed like a hundred and twenty was going to kill you.”
“Shut up, Justin!” Erik retorted, having finally found the limit to his better nature.
Drakne was tall enough to see over the heads of Raoul and Kendra. He looked past them and focused on a safe area to the left on the other side of the threatening ravine. The gap was huge on both sides of the broken pathway, and he needed to land away from Jharate who was still in the lead.
Following Justin and the others forward was not an option because they weren’t going to wait for an invisible person to jump. And he needed to get across quickly before somebody bumped into him. The fact that they hadn’t done so already was extremely lucky, considering what had just happened.
This left only one option. He closed his eyes, pictured the area he had just studied, and teleported over.
He opened his eyes cautiously and relaxed. He had made it. Drakne was now in one of the large dome-like chambers of the tunnel, several feet from the edge of the ravine that he had just crossed.
Drakne always hated teleporting. There was just so much risk involved. It was a much more useful gift for an intuitive person.
“Let’s get off of this path,” Arante commanded.
“I’ll be right back, Kendra,” Justin called over his shoulder. “Wait for me, ‘kay?”
“Take your time…”
Kendra had answered with a mixture of fear, sarcasm, and sincerity. She continued to feel these three somewhat conflicting emotions while she waited as patiently as she could.
Jharate picked up his torch and everyone on his side of the ledge moved further in, very carefully— until they came to where they could walk safely on the wide part of the cave floor again, inside the large chamber that Drakne had just entered. Justin gently set Lani down on the ground, far away from the chasm they had just crossed.
“Stay with her, please,” he said to Arante.
“I will.”
Justin went back quickly to help encourage Kendra across the gap.
“Okay you can jump now!” Justin held out his arms showing he was ready to steady her upon arrival.
“I can’t!” Kendra did everything she could to avoid looking down at the abyss. “You know I’m deathly afraid of heights! It was hard enough to get on this path in the first place and now you want me to jump? That is never gonna happen!”
“Fine, then stay still.”
Justin concentrated and her body lifted up off the ground and glided across the gap toward him. Her face looked as if she’d seen a ghost. She pressed her lips together to try to keep a frightened scream inside.
She held very still, with her hands balled-up in fists so tightly that her knuckles were turning white. As she got closer, Justin grabbed her upper arms to help stabilize her until she was firmly on the path. Kendra exhaled slowly and then took another deep breath in.
“I don’t ever want to do that again!”
“Careful, Kendra. We don’t have enough room for you to freak out.”
“I know, I know. Wait a minute… I wonder if…”
Kendra activated her shield to span the distance Justin had just brought her across. She envisioned the flat version of her shield overlapping on both sides, so there would be no gaps.
“Raoul! Walk across my shield to us!”
Raoul gulped. He hesitated for a moment, looking from Kendra, to Justin and back again. He finally landed on Kendra.
He took a deep breath and an unsure half-step onto the invisible shield. It was solid and holding. It felt like very smooth ground, but he was still extremely cautious.
Raoul took another step. Then another. A few more. And, at last, he was across. He breathed out slowly through his mouth and wiped the beaded sweat away from his forehead as his feet touched on the solid, visible ground.
“Wait there,” Kendra called to the other rebels. “We’ll get off the path so there’s more room, and then I’ll reactivate my shield for you. Wait for my call.”
“As you suggest,” Jaresh answered serenely.
The rest of the rebels who were still stuck on the other side with Jaresh nodded in agreement— each one seeming calm and collected as they waited.
The three friends walked over to where the path widened into the rest of the tunnel. Once there, Kendra re-activated her gift from her new position.
“Alright, I think it’s safe to cross,” Kendra called out. “Go ahead and walk on it.”
Starting with Jaresh, they— like Raoul— took a couple of short steps to test it out and then crossed easily. When Ka‘ern— the last person in the group— completed his crossing Kendra deactivated her shield with a triumphant grin at Justin.
“Yeah, yeah, Kendra. We know you’re awesome. Don’t get too cocky though or your head might not fit through the tunnel exit when we find it.”
Kendra stuck out her tongue and turned her back on him so sharply that her long ponytail whipped him in the face. He sputtered and puffed air out as if he were still trying to get her hair out of his face even though she was well out of reach.
Arante briefly placed the back of her hand on Lani’s forehead. Lani was warmer than she should be— but not to an alarming degree. Arante closed her eyes for a short moment, trying to contain her anger toward her cousin.
“On behalf of our entire bloodline— from the beginning of time— I both thank you and deeply apologize, Lani,” Arante spoke with a quiet and reverent tone.
Arante placed the fingertips of her three middle fingers vertically between her own eyebrows, and then moved them to Lani’s in the same place.
As she removed her hand from Lani’s face she placed it on her own once more and whispered, “As my cousin has failed you, I take upon myself the debt required— for the honor of our ancestors.”
Arante dropped her hand and stood up. She turned to address the group.
“I think that’s enough for one night. At least it should be night by now,” Arante remarked. “We’ll set up camp here.”
As the sun began to set, Rutghar surveyed the aftermath of the final battle of Trisakne. The northeastern part of the kingdom had managed to keep their rebellion going much longer than they should have. This region had fought to the last living soul. Their skills with weapons, natural gifts, and magic had been strong— their spirits, unbreakable.
Bodies— from both sides— covered the ground in every direction as far as the eye could see through the flatlands. Far too many to be buried. Vranah’s troops were currently lifting the corpses up— by hand and by magic— moving them across the field, and throwing them into a nearby river.
The river was about a half a mile wide and ran south, above ground, for a three mile stretch. It then continued underground until it reached its outlet in Lanas— into the Backradaven Sea. The current was steady and strong. But the water ran red from the bloodshed. It was almost as if the river were made of blood.
“General Rutghar,” greeted a tall, thin man, dressed head-to-toe in battle armor— as they briefly grasped each other’s forearms near the elbows.
“General Andran,” Rutghar returned. “I have been sent by Her Ladyship, Zarkania.”
“For the report?”
“Correct.”
“Very well. As you can see— victory is ours. The Battle of Echredaun will long be spoken of as one of our greatest triumphs. It came at a price— though not as steep as the price they paid.”
“The numbers?”
“Approximately nine-hundred-thousand dead on their side. Five-hundred-thousand of our own soldiers perished with them.”
“A heavy toll.”
“Indeed. However, the ratio was acceptable. And this was the last holdout in Trisakne. The kingdom now belongs entirely to our lord and master, Vranah.”
“Can’t you do something about the smell?” Rutghar asked, his nose crinkling with annoyance. “It’s ghastly.”
“Blood is hard to remove— e
ven with magic. My men are working on it. At their current rate, I believe we will have all the bodies moved into the river within two weeks’ time. The river should purify itself once we are done. As for the land— I suppose we need a strong rain afterwards. But all will be done. You can assure Her Ladyship and His Excellency of that.”
“Well done,” Ruthgar replied. “They will be most pleased.”
Rutghar morphed into his silver hawk form and rocketed toward the castle.
The one-point-four million extra deaths on Earth, caused by the over-two-month Battle of Echredaun went completely and utterly unnoticed by the masses— as always.
Sporadic terrorist attacks. Normal natural disasters blamed on global warming and other such theories. Accidents of varying kinds. Murders. Diseases.
Nine-hundred-thousand remarkably virtuous souls, and five-hundred-thousand terrible souls perished as their equivalents on Alamea died. To say nothing of the approximately nine million normal every-day deaths that took place on Alamea during the past two months— causing the exact same number of every-day average deaths on Earth.
All with no way to tell the difference.
Did the Earth soul who died in a mountain biking accident die because his equivalent was killed in the Battle of Echredaun? Or did he die because his equivalent got a pneumonia somewhere in Tofan and lost the battle for health?
Did the soldier killed whilst on deployment die because of Echredaun? Or because her equivalent tripped and fell— hitting her head on a rock?
No place on Earth was untouched— with causes of death ranging from the fantastic to the mundane.
But nothing unusual.
Nothing extraordinary.
Nothing noticeable.
Everything appeared just as it did for the happily-married husband and wife of twenty-three years— driving home on a rainy September night from an awards’ banquet held in honor of the man’s business and community achievements— when a desperately-drunk eighteen-year-old girl plowed her convertible Hummer into and over the top of their Lexus. Their lives ended— their soon-to-be-twenty-one-year-old daughter who had gone away to college was called with the horrifying news of the accident mere hours later. Both of their equivalents among those killed in Echredaun.
One moment here— the next moment, gone. The real cause forever unknown.
Barely even a blip on the radar.
You Know What Else Is Intense? Glamping?!
Everyone sighed in relief at Arante’s declaration that they would stop here for the night. The crumbling pathway had been the final straw after the mountain siren ordeal. Rest was welcomed.
Camp was set up within a matter of minutes. The rapid set-ups and breakdowns had become second nature to everyone. Traveling for over two months— often whilst running for their lives— had made them near experts.
Arante conjured an imitation of the Alamean night sky above their heads, along with a few lazy fireflies and the sound of crickets, to lull them peacefully off to sleep. She put less effort than normal into the quality of the holographs, so that they would fade away within a couple of hours and not keep those awake who preferred to sleep in silence.
However, she put a lot of effort into conjuring a holographic crackling fire near Lani, so that if she woke up she would not be in complete darkness.
As Drakne watched the rebels, he realized that he too was very tired. He tried not to sleep as much as possible, even whilst the rebels slept, and so he hadn’t really slept in weeks— other than allowing himself an hour or two of rest here and there. He decided that tonight he too would slumber.
But not before he formed an invisible shield around him like a tent. This would ensure that nothing but air could get in and that no sounds of his breathing or stirring in his sleep could get out. However, he would be able to hear everything outside the bubble.
Once finished, he created an inordinately-plush circular mattress inside the bubble shield and conjured luxurious satin pillows and blankets for his additional comfort from his chambers back in Trisakne. Mere moments after settling in, the extreme coziness washed over him and he fell asleep.
Lani was still out cold. Raoul came to her side with a worried expression on his face, determined not to leave. She needed her best friend right now. And that was him. He laid out a sleeping mat for her.
“Hey Justin, can you levitate Lani onto her sleeping mat please?”
“Sure thing. Here, take my bedroll too so you can make it softer for her.”
“That’s a great idea! I’ll give her mine too! Thanks, Justin.”
“No problem. She deserves it.”
“She sure does. She’s always done everything for us… Okay, ready now.”
“Got her.”
Lani stirred a little after being moved onto the bedrolls but did not open her eyes. “Jharate?”
Raoul’s jaw tightened and he stared furiously at the cave wall— a boiling rage welling up inside of him. He took several calculated breaths to attempt to keep his cool outwardly. He felt Justin’s hand on his shoulder.
“Let it go,” Justin instructed quietly.
“But…”
“Dude, there’s nothing you could have done.”
Raoul looked up at Justin and whispered with a furious tone.
“I should have done something! How could I have ever liked that guy? How could I have let Lani fall for him? I should have protected her.”
“Like you could have stopped her.”
“She would have listened to me! She would have! She and I always listen to each other and value each other’s opinions! I could have talked her out of it! I could have—”
“Jharate fooled all of us,” Justin whispered back. “Heck, I even thought he might be ‘the one’ who finally deserved her.”
“Jharate?” she asked again, breathlessly in her sleep.
Raoul winced. He shut his eyes and shuddered with anger as he squeezed his hands into white-knuckled fists. I wish she’d stop saying his name!
“He should be the one here with her now, nursing her back to health and begging her forgiveness!” Raoul yelled in a whisper.
“But she has us.”
“You’ve got that right at least. Can you give me just a minute alone with her?”
“Sure thing.”
Justin patted Raoul on the back as he left. Raoul exhaled slowly and loosened his hands. He stroked Lani’s hair gently, hoping that maybe it would be enough to calm her subconscious.
She sighed and did not speak that traitor’s name again. Raoul’s muscles relaxed and his anger quelled as he saw that she was at peace once more.
Raoul felt a strong hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Jaresh holding a canteen in his other hand.
“When Lani awakens, give her this.”
Jaresh offered the canteen to him. Raoul took it and nodded his head.
“Thank you, Jaresh. What is it?”
“It is an herbal remedy I have prepared for her. It should help to ease her pain and begin to build her strength again. My family members have been the healers for the Trisaknen royal line for centuries.”
“Wow! So you’re a real healer.”
“As are you.”
“Is that the same thing you gave me earlier?”
“Similar, but not identical.”
“Does it involve magic?”
“I’m afraid all of my magic comes from libraries and discipline. My particular acquired gift is with herbs. My grandmother once brought Jharate’s father, King Karahn, back from the brink of death with the very remedy you hold in your hands.”
“Really?!”
“Yes,” Jaresh affirmed with a jovial smile for Raoul’s genuine interest. “King Karahn— or Prince Karahn as he was then— was a lad of thirteen years at the time. He had been thrown off his horse during a race around the castle grounds with his cousin, Arakahn.”
“Oh no!”
“That was not all. Arakahn’s horse had been following so closely behind, that Karahn w
as trampled before Arakahn even knew what had happened.”
“Holy cats! That’s awful!”
“It was. But, thanks to this remedy, Karahn was back to full strength within three days.”
“Wow! Thank you so much!”
“Of course. She saved our Prince. It is the least I could do.” There was a bitter undertone in his voice that Raoul did not notice.
“My own healing gift isn’t of much use at the moment,” Raoul lamented. “I am very grateful that she has another chance to be healed quickly because of you.”
“Come and find me if her condition worsens for even a moment. Promise me, Raoul.”
“I promise.”
Jaresh nodded and walked away to turn in for the night.
Jharate had been keeping a watchful eye over Raoul as Raoul tended to Lani. He continued to stare at her for hours as everyone else drifted off to sleep. The smallest part of Jharate longed to be the one caring for her. It should be him. Honor demanded it.
She had saved his life, and had done so in a very painful way. Perhaps she really did love him. Could it be possible he was making a mistake? Maybe she was a Half-Heart. Her bravery had been exemplary and Half-Hearts were supposed to have great strength of character.
Suddenly his head ached, like a prelude to a migraine. He shook his head hard and the pain disappeared instantly. He raised an eyebrow incredulously as he redirected his gaze toward Lani.
He was not ready to admit that he was wrong. Nor was he entirely convinced that he was. One thing he was sure of was that he needed sleep— now. He closed his eyes and quickly drifted off.
Jharate saw a familiar king-sized bed and turned to see his mother sitting in her ornate rocking chair by the window. She stood as she saw him and held her arms outstretched.
He raced to embrace her in a warm hug. As they parted, she held onto both of his hands and looked at him with deep and serious concern in her warm brown eyes.
“Jharate,” Karsenia spoke gently. “You are under a spell, my son.”
