by Kate Sander
Senka drew herself out of meditation and rose from her knees, shaking out her legs. She took a sip of water and loosened up. Master Apollyon had taken her in, giving her a home. For a year and half it had been just the two of them.
Reflecting, she paced her cell. Soft. That’s what she’d been when he’d found her. Soft in body, weak in soul. Master Apollyon had fixed her. Slowly but surely, he’d built her up. Running then lifting logs until she puked, only to collapse exhausted and have Apollyon tell her to do it again. She was taught fighting and would do patterns over and over until her feet bled. They sparred hard, never pulling punches. Master Apollyon may have been three times her age, but he beat her every time. She punched a bucket of sand to harden her knuckles and spent hours in stances with knees bent and legs shaking.
Resilience. Toughness. Discipline.
Master Apollyon had taught her it all.
The training was grueling, but Senka had relished every minute. Any time she wanted, she could have left. But she never had. It had never crossed her mind.
Apollyon had given her the name Senka, meaning shadow. He’d taught her how to use an array of weapons. Her favourites, a bow and arrow and duel wielding tantos (a short, straight sword much like a katana).
She’d liked them so much, she’d worn them crossing on her lower back.
Apollyon had taught her how to use her speed and agility as her greatest weapon. She could dive, draw, slice and retreat before the enemy even knew they were under attack.
One day, a few months into her training, they had their first conversation about the Zoya.
“Zoya,” her Master said, allowing her to pour the tea, “Are outsiders. We don’t know where you come from, but the beginning is always the same. You wake up on that hill with no memory. The Zoya have been appearing in Langundo for over a hundred years, since the dark ages.”
Senka finished pouring the tea and said, “Why isn’t there anyone to meet us? Why do you just let us fend for ourselves in the forest?”
The Master sipped his tea, taking his time to answer. “It started with fear. Zoya come in a blinding flash of light. Always lying on their back naked on that same hill. Suddenly, with no warning and without reason, poof, a person appears. It scares people. From fear comes hate and distrust. The Melanthios say that the hill is cursed and anyone who goes near will die a painful death at the hands of the Zoya. So, Zoya are left to fend for themselves. They often die before they meet anyone, so no one knows how many are here.”
“Well obviously you don’t believe we’re dangerous, or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“True,” he nodded, “But Zoya have an nasty habit of dying suddenly. It’s like someone snuffs a fire out somewhere else, and here a Zoya drops dead. I have taken in many Zoya before you, and most would be dead already. Honestly, it’s tiring. I have had many friends whom I loved drop dead at this table.”
Senka looked around uncomfortably, “Is that why you left me alone for two months in the woods?”
“No,” he said, looking at her over his wooden cup “I left you alone because I saw what you did to those mountain lions.”
Senka dropped her cup, sending it crashing to the floor. Tea flowed out of the overturned glass onto the polished wood.
“I was scared,” she stammered.
“No you weren’t.”
“They were going to hurt me.”
“If you can’t stop lying, I will ask you to leave my home and never return.”
His steady gaze was too much for her. She looked down, red faced and ashamed, and mumbled something incoherent.
“Senka, we have talked about this. You are a strong woman and you look people in the eye when they are talking to you.”
“I was angry, all right?” Tears stained her cheeks and her hands shook on the table.
“Why were you angry?” he set his cup down gently, and stood to grab a rag to clean the puddle of tea on the floor.
“I don’t know. I really don’t. I was nothing then I was here, with no memory. I was angry at the world, at the forest, at the waterfall. I took it out on the lion. I almost starved after I did it. I was so ashamed I couldn’t hunt, I couldn’t sleep. I just… I don’t know. I needed meat. I was going to die… So I decided to use the whole animal and kill it fast.”
“I didn’t punish you for the deer you harvested for meat,” he finished wiping up, picked up her cup and poured more tea. “I left you out there for uselessly and needlessly killing another animal. Two weeks for each one. Sometimes, we must atone for our actions.”
She nodded, sniffling.
“Good. Understand that I train you only to defend, not to attack the weak. Ever. You have done penance, and now you forgive yourself.”
She sipped her new cup, too ashamed to look him in the eye.
“Now, back to the Zoya. People also fear the Zoya as they usually will have one or two things extraordinary about them. For example, you can see auras. Also, I’m not sure if you have noticed but you are exceptionally quick. In a few months’ time you will be faster than I am. Something, I must say, that has never been done before.”
Blushing, Senka sipped her tea.
“Other Zoya have different attributes, such as exceptional strength, intelligence, ingenuity. Others have seen auras, and yet others can convince anyone of anything. You must learn to use your attributes as best as possible.”
“So I can see light around people. That doesn’t do much.”
“Watch my hand and focus on the aura.”
Not really understanding what he was getting at, she squinted and focused on his aura. Like always, her Master was bathed in gold. Holding his hand out in front of him, he paused. The aura moved slightly to the right, and then his hand moved after it. Only a split second before, but the aura definitely moved first.
Surprised that she’d never noticed before, she smiled and watched it move.
“So your aura shows your intention? Like you were going to move your hand, so the aura moved, then your hand caught up.”
“Exactly! This is terribly helpful when in a combat situation, as feints don’t work. The aura only moves for the intention.”
“You mean I can predict what people will do as they think it?”
“Yes! And the more you use it, the better you will become. We will start to practice with it tomorrow during our sparring session. Now, each aura you see is a different color?”
“Yes, deer are green, but each individual deer is a different shade. The lions were pink, you are gold.”
“Have you looked at your own?”
“Haven’t really thought about it.”
“Well, focus on your own hand.”
Senka obeyed, and saw a blue light emanating from her hand. It was a wonderful color, almost purple. It swirled around her hand. When she thought about moving her finger, the blue light swirled and danced.
“It’s a dark blue, almost purple,” she said.
Her master smiled. “I believe you will find that everyone has a different color. Yes, plenty will have a blue aura, but no one will have the exact same shade and behavior. You can tell a lot about a person’s soul with their aura color. Learn to use it well.”
The lesson over, Senka rinsed the dishes and went to the loft to her straw bed. Exhausted from the day, she easily fell into a dreamless sleep.
Senka quit pacing her cell.
Quit stalling.
She was avoiding the memory she needed to confront. Fear was winning. This memory needed to stay dead, where it belonged. But, how could she move forward if she didn’t face her past. She swallowed and picked at her robe nervously.
Face your fears.
She had to. Master Apollyon had suffered for her actions. The memory was all that was left of him. She owed it to him to remember how he died.
Penance. You killed him. He taught you to pay the price. He trusted you, took you into his home, and you slaughtered him. You deserve the torture you get.
Kne
eling in the center of her cell, she tapped her fingers on her knees, refusing to remember.
YOU KILLED HIM. REMEMBER? IT’S TIME YOU OWNED IT.
With a sigh, she closed her eyes and faced her fears head on.
It was penance.
And she needed to pay the price.
A year and a half passed in a blink of an eye. Grown into adulthood, she walked proudly, her two tantos short swords strapped across her lower back. Bow over one shoulder, quiver on the other, she felt ready for anything.
Master Apollyon helped her make dark green pants, a dark green shirt and a wolf hide coat. She looked good. The rest of her belongings were in a small pack. They were going to town and she needed something to barter with. Her supple leather shoes made no sound as she and Apollyon jogged through the trees.
The village. The concept was foreign. Apollyon had gone a few times in the year and a half they lived together, but Senka had stayed behind. Nervous of people and judgement. This time, she had to go. Excitement and nerves were mixing in her brain.
“This Melanthios village is home to only a hundred people. Small, some might say, but there are many of these nameless villages in the forest. It’s how most of the Melanthios live.”
It was the first time they ventured together. Senka was set to make her own tantos, so they were bringing pelts to trade with the blacksmith.
Fire, meat and sweat gradually permeated the crisp, clean smell of fir. They were close.
Rounding a corner in the trail, the village opened up in front of them. It was beautiful! A half dozen log cabins strewn through the forest, nestled comfortably around trees and in alcoves. The Melanthios lived with the forest, they didn’t clear cut it to suit their needs.
Each log cabin had a different shop out front with a symbol caved above the door. A half-moon atop a circle atop a cross.
“What’s that mean?” Senka asked as they stopped shy of the village, giving her time to take it all in.
“It’s the symbol of the Melanthios. It is also used for Quicksilver which has another less used name, Mercury.”
The village was busy! It was a cool summer day, and children of all ages were running through the shops and street. Men and women sat on logs and sewed clothing, created beading and tanned leathers. Everyone looked so happy. A group laughed together in front of a clothing shop.
A rhythmic strike of a hammer from a cabin told her the blacksmith was busy. She focused, and oh the array of auras! Pink, blue, silver, orange, green, red and every colour in between. All the colors of the rainbow. So many shades and shimmers she couldn’t keep track of them all.
A young, shirtless boy of perhaps four or five ran by, playing with the other village children. “He has a gold aura too!”
Master Apollyon smiled, “Yes. I’ve met him and figured he might. He is a calm and good natured child, and will make a fine master someday.”
The boy looked at them and gave them a shy smile. With a yell from his friends, he turned and ran away.
Master continued, “Senka, remember what we talked about. Don’t tell anyone about being a Zoya. I am known to take pupils from tribes all over the forest. You are from a Melanthios town far to the North with a very small population and light skin. If anyone asks, that’s what you tell them.”
Senka nodded excitedly. “Can we go look at those pretty leather shoes they are making! Look at the beading!”
He smiled, “Soon! We will look at everything soon. First we must go and trade for your apprenticeship. Balt is gruff, but I’ve already talked to him about you. He makes wonderful weapons and you will learn a lot from him.”
Senka nodded and followed her master to the blacksmith cottage. People stopped what they were doing to wave at the newcomers. Many yelling greetings and welcoming messages. Apollyon waved back, and Senka shot them nervous smiles.
They reached the blacksmith shack. The hammering stopped as they approached and the smell of coal and fire reached her. Apollyon stepped back, gesturing for her to open the door, when he stopped and went rigid.
Senka looked at him quizzically.
From the forest came a long, harsh scream that stopped as suddenly as it began.
Everyone in the town stopped what they were doing to look at eachother. It only took a moment for panic to set in.
Apollyon turned to her and said quickly, “Take the children and run.”
“No! Master, I can come and help. I know enough. I can do it!”
“No,” he said, turning his back and setting off, “You must get the children out of here. Run!”
The message passed quickly through the village. All children to the newcomer, all adults to arms.
Carrying any weapon they could find, the adults followed Apollyon towards the scream.
The children flocked towards Senka. A quick count told her she had fifteen children to look after. She looked longingly after her master, desperate to join the fight. The small boy with the golden aura pulled on her shirt and whispered, “We’re scared.”
Senka nodded. “Okay, let’s get out of here.”
They went in the opposite direction of the fighting and straight into the woods. A battle raged behind her, swords clashing, men and women screaming. Guilt shot through her. She needed to help her master, not be here minding little kids. Without much thought to strategy, she followed a nearby stream to a small waterfall. A reach of her hand told her what she needed to know. Gesturing to the wide-eyed children behind her, she led them through the falls into a small cave.
The oldest boy was about fourteen. Senka beckoned him and led him out of the cave.
“Stay and look after them. I’m going to help.”
“But the Master said you were supposed to stay with us,” he pleaded, tears forming. “My mama said you’re always supposed to listen to the Master ‘cause he knows.”
“He doesn’t know everything. Stay here, watch them. Don’t make a sound. I’ll come back for you soon.”
The run back to the village was quick, but by the time she returned, only a few sounds of clashing blades were left. It didn’t take her long to reach the battle. She had the sense to stop running and sneak stealthily the last fifty feet. A small knoll rolled in the forest. Senka crept up the side on her stomach.
A quick peek over the top made her heart stop.
Her master was surrounded by an army of huge men and women dressed in full gold armour. At least fifty of them. Most sat and chatted lightly, some cleaned their swords, and others piled the bodies of the dead villagers.
Apollyon’s shoulders sagged as he fought four men at once. He was the only Melanthios left alive. Ducking and weaving, he struck out weakly. Exhausted. The attack was easily parried, to laughs and jeers from the rest of the army.
One man, who was clearly in charge, said “Quit playing with him and finish the old guy off. I want the kids found so we can take them out and finish this.”
Anger. White-hot and instant flooded every fiber of her being. Senka ran full speed and leapt off the knoll, drawing her tantos in mid-air. The closest man was an easy target, he was so wrapped up in the show he didn’t think to look behind him. Targeting the gap between his helmet and shoulders, she landed on his back, stabbing him on both sides of his neck. He crumbled under her in a heap, his red aura gone. Dead.
Rolling off him, she wrenched her blades free in a splash of blood and targeted the next soldier. rolled, wrenching her blades free in a splash of blood and targeted the next soldier. This one was a woman, large and strong, leaning on her sword and laughing as she watched Apollyon struggle for his life. An easy kill. Senka stabbed her underneath the armpit, puncturing her lung and heart. Soundless, she fell to the ground, blood pooling around her.
Senka ducked and weaved through the army, slashing and stabbing as she went. Four soldiers died before anyone realized they were under attack. Finally, Senka miscalculated a swing, and caught a soldier in the shoulder instead of the throat.
He screamed.
“We�
�re under attack!” Someone yelled.
Now, it was Senka versus fifty, trying to get to her master. Weapons swung, fists flew, daggers were thrown. Many of the weapons glowed blue. Confused, she made sure a blue weapon didn’t touch her and avoided them at all cost. Focused on her master and his tired blocks, she was only five soldiers away...
Apollyon noticed her and dropped his guard, shocked at her sudden appearance. The soldier nearest took the opportunity and plunged his massive sword. Her master didn’t notice it coming and it stabbed him through the body.
Senka screamed. A loud, guttural cry of pain.
Apollyon fell to the ground. He met her eye for a moment. Then, they went dark. He slumped to his side and his beautiful golden aura faded.
A soldier rammed the butt of his sword into the side of Senka’s head. Stunned, stars behind her eyes, she dropped to the ground. Her swords were wrenched out of her grasp and a heavy knee pressed her into the ground as her hands were bound behind her back.
Apollyon was dead.
She couldn’t think straight. The only family she’d ever known was lying on his side, sword still stuck through his body.
Roughly, the soldiers dragged her to her knees. Men and women jeered and laughed as she knelt, weeping.
The Captain stepped in front of her.
“What’s your name?”
Senka spat in his face. A ripple of laughter from the army. The Captain slowly wiped his face with a hand and smiled.
Without warning, he kicked her square in the chest. Senka flew backwards and landed heavily on her side, gasping for air.
“Pick her back up.”
Soldiers rushed to obey. She was dragged upright by two giant men and placed on her knees before the captain. Before the conversation could continue, another soldier yelled from the top of the knoll, “Sir! We found them!”
“Well,” the Captain said, “Bring them down!”
Senka watched, horrified, as the children were led down the knoll. Sobbing and frantic, the little ones clutched terrified to the older ones.
