by Jeff Gunzel
He sat up and started weeping into the blanket, using the fabric to muffle his growing sobs. Unable to control himself, Jacob readjusted the blanket in his hands and completely buried his face. Months of frustration let loose in a gush of tears and weeping. Pain pushed into the deepest corners of his heart came rushing out like a geyser. He needed to face the fact that she was gone forever, to mourn this reality so he could finally push on. It was the release he had needed for a long time now.
Lost in raging sadness, it was impossible to tell how much time had gone by. Eventually, he regained control of himself and wiped away the last of his tears. “I’ll always love you, Athel. But I refuse to keep your memory trapped prisoner any longer. I release you now. Wherever you are, please be at peace.”
Feeling better than he had in a long time, Jacob threw the covers back and rolled from the bed. “If I die this day, then I do so with a clear conscience.” After throwing on his clothes, he grabbed his staff and two pre-packed bags he had stashed in the corner. There’s no turning back now. Eric and Jade can’t do this alone. They need my help, and I refuse to let them down. Kelus better have what I asked for.
He opened the door to go find Kelus, but nearly tumbled right over the top of him as he waited in the doorway. “Whoa,” said Jacob, grabbing the doorframe to keep his balance. “Why are you just standing outside my door?” The little man shrugged. “If you’re here to try and talk me out of this, forget it.”
“I’m not here to do any such thing,” he said. His expression was somber and he looked tired.
Jacob cocked his head suspiciously. “Did you do as I asked?”
“I did,” came the simple reply before he turned around and started walking away.
“Then where is the map, Kelus?” asked Jacob, trotting off after him. “I need to leave now. The others are depending on my help and I don’t have time for any of your coy games.”
Kelus turned around, smiling this time. “The map is here,” he said, a finger tapping against his temple. “And you’re correct on both accounts. Our friends are depending on us and we do need to leave right now. I have two horses watered and ready.”
“No,” Jacob protested, running up beside him. “You are not coming with me.”
“Oh? And why is that?”
“You can’t just up and leave the clan behind. You have a responsibility to your people. What if something were to happen to you? You’re too important for this.”
Kelus stopped and looked Jacob in the eye. “And how exactly does all of that add up when compared to the fate of our world?” He paused a moment to let his words sink in. “If something were to happen to me, the circle would simply choose another to take my place. There is no risk here other than to myself—a sacrifice I’ve already chosen to make.”
The little man touched Jacob on the shoulder. “Your words rang through my head all night, and you are correct. Although painfully trained and loyal, my men are not ready for what lies ahead. And even now we still have no idea who our allies will be when the darkness comes. Jade and Eric have done everything they can in preparation for the coming war, and it is up to us to do the same. I don’t know if we can convince the Tryads to fight for us, or even if they will listen. But we have to try. My name still carries some weight in these lands, and you will have a better chance with me than without me.”
Kelus turned away and kept walking. Bewildered, yet encouraged by the man’s moxie, Jacob just shook his head in stunned silence. “Are you coming with me or am I going alone?” the little man called back. You stubborn old fool, Jacob thought, trying to hold back a grin.
He followed Kelus around the corner where Wara stood next to two saddled horses. They grazed on a patch of lush greenery, paying little attention to much else. “This mission the boy has talked you into is suicide. You know I speak the truth,” she said, glaring at Kelus. “Stop this madness at once, you old fool! Why would you throw away your life so recklessly?” She gestured towards Jacob with an angry flick. “If this fool is so eager to die, then let him. That doesn’t mean you’re obligated to die with him.”
Kelus climbed up onto the large brown beast. “I’ve already left you instructions in the event I don’t return,” he said absently, ignoring her while rummaging through one of the saddle bags.
“You have a responsibility to this clan!” she barked defiantly. “What you’re proposing to do is unethical, and I won’t stand for it.”
He spun in the saddle to face her directly. “You are correct, Wara. It is my responsibility to always show leadership and integrity. And in times of war, it is my responsibility to do everything in my power to keep our clansmen safe.” He leaned in closer to her. “When compared to the lives of our people, and every man, woman and child living outside these borders, my personal safety becomes irrelevant. Despite the circle’s substantial influence here, I am still the leader of the Takeri Clan. As as its leader, I must always act in favor of the greater good, or not at all. This is not a choice. Men of my position don’t have the luxury of choices.”
He spun back in the saddle, facing the tree line where there appeared to be nothing more than unassuming bushes and shrubbery. “I order each and every one of you to stand down. Where I am going, your protection will make no difference.” Like creatures emerging from a tar pit, the outlines of his personal bodyguards slowly melted into view, now visible through the greenery. One at a time, they thumped fists to chests with a nod of respect, then disappeared back into the forest.
With a snap of his reins, Kelus was trotting off without another word. Jacob patted himself down, making sure his hidden daggers were all in place, then jumped onto the remaining horse. He met Wara’s angry glare with an even expression. No judgment, no anger, just a measured level of respect.
“I understand your frustration, but this is something Kelus and I must do,” he said. “Please understand, we don’t seek glory or praise. Each of us is willing to give our lives for the success of this mission. That said, I promise to do what I can to bring him back safely. You have my word on that.”
Her angry glare melted away. She looked up at him with great sadness in her eyes. “I’ll hold you to that promise,” she said. “May the gods show you favor this day. Now off with you.” Jacob turned his horse and galloped off.
* * *
Morita stormed down the hallway, shattering alternating mirrors with her fists as she went. Furious, she kicked a table, sending it crashing into the far wall. It exploded on impact, sending thousands of tiny splinters and sawdust into the air.
“She’s nothing but a damn mortal, yet she nearly took my life! How?” Her raging anger was mixed with fear and confusion. With her indestructible body, powers of regeneration and her mastery of the arts, Morita had always considered herself immortal. And for all intents and purposes...she was.
But that warrior. The Gate Keeper’s feeble pet of nothing more than flesh and blood. This Jade... She had somehow unleashed more power and damage on Morita than she ever thought possible. Having almost died in that battle shook her right to her core.
“Your days are numbered whore, as well as those of your precious Gate Keeper. The world seems to think this mortal is some kind of god. But after I tear his flesh and drink his blood, the legend will be no more!
“Oh, but not you, my dear sweet Jade. At least, not right away. I will make sure you watch as I slice the skin from his bones, strip by strip. I promise he’ll live through the entire ordeal, and you will have the privilege of gazing into his eyes as he pleads for your help. Then once he expires, days or weeks later, it will be your turn to perish in a similar manner. You’ll beg me for sweet, merciful death, but none shall be granted.”
She stopped at the steps, her shoulder pressed heavily against the wall as she gazed up to her destination. Dizzy from anger, she leaned against the stone while trying to regain her wits. Freshly dipped torches flickered away, their liquid fire hissing against the lacquered steps as they dripped. “Bastard creature,” she
called out. “You will tell me exactly what I want to hear.”
She forced herself off the wall and ascended, her body bouncing about, swaying as if she were drunk. Rage and exhaustion had taken their toll, and she was beginning to feel the effects. But there was no time for rest. She wanted answers, and the creature who could provide them was just ahead.
At the top, she placed her hands on the circular door covered in ancient symbols, red and white hieroglyphics whose meanings had been lost for centuries. Muttering a few guttural words, she watched as the stone rolled aside, disappearing into the wall with a rasping grind.
Foul, pungent air rushed into her face, blowing her hair back with its force. It was as if the air itself could not stand the putrid creature inside and needed to be free of it. Covering her mouth, she pushed through the cobwebs and made her way towards the grotesque figure submerged in the wall ahead.
The metal frame seemed to house rancid mud, bubbling and gurgling as it belched incessantly. Flexible tubes flowed in and out from the gooey substance, pumping clear liquid into the creature.
Morita’s eyes began to glow as she reached out with her mind, sending her thoughts through a form of telepathy. No matter how foul and crippled this creature appeared to be, it did have a single gift that had proved most useful: the ability to foresee events that had not yet come to pass.
“I must know,” she said verbally, though her voice was strained with concentration. “My adversaries have proved to be more powerful than I ever imagined. Do I have cause for concern? Tell me what you see. I order you to use your gift to aid me.”
Thick bubbles rose and fell, each releasing their own sour stench into the air. The muddy mixture began to ripple with tiny waves. A single bubble rose up at the center, far larger than the others. Facial features began to form, nose, mouth, then finally a set of eyes that jetted open.
Stunned, Morita stepped back, losing concentration and breaking their mental link in the process. It had never done such a thing before. She hadn’t realized it was even capable.
What she found to be even more disturbing was that the facial features were eerily similar to the creature’s previous form. The human form it had known for many years. The face of her father... Its lips parted with a grin, strings of brown goo stretching between them. White eyes rolled about, searching the room before settling on her face.
“Yes, I have witnessed your fate,” it said in a throaty wet gurgle. The simple act of talking released even more stench into the air.
“Then tell me, what have the gods shared with such a pitiful creature as yourself?” Morita replied, still unsure of what to make of this odd behavior. Its sudden “human” quality was most unnerving.
Its sticky smile grew even wider. “It seems the gods do not favor you...Daughter,” it said, causing Morita’s blood to grow cold. Not only because of the chilling premonition, but because it recognized who she was. Was it growing more intelligent, possibly becoming self-aware? Impossible.
“And why is that, Father?” said Morita, determined not to shy away from its newfound perceptiveness. That didn’t change the fact that she was still in control here.
“The Gate Keeper grows in power by the day. You no longer have the ability to stop him or those that follow him.” Its eyes closed as it roared with laughter, a deep, bellowing laugh that nearly shook the walls. Morita mashed her teeth in anger, fists clenched so tightly they trembled. It stopped laughing and looked her right in the eyes. “And the mortal girl who pushed you to the brink of death shall return once more to finish what she started. The gods have spoken and you are powerless against their word.”
Incensed, Morita roared with fury and charged the repulsive creature. She snatched two of the flexible tubes and pulled, snapping them free one at a time. Clear liquid sprayed the wall and covered the floor as the creature’s sustaining essence drained away. “Then in return for your gift of sight, I grant you death!” she shrieked, snapping the final tube free.
Its eyes fluttered, rolling back as if experiencing some sort of ecstasy. The rancid mud began to run down, draining onto the floor in thick globs. “I graciously accept your gift. At last, you’ve granted me peace,” it muttered in a long, rolling murmur.
Blinded by frustration, she had unintentionally given him the very thing he had begged for so many times before. All she could do now was look on helplessly while the creature melted to the floor, liquid seeping down into cracks. Morita stepped into the brown puddle, its consistency thinning to that of water, and knelt down. She scooped up some of the rancid liquid in her hand.
“You lie,” she whispered into her palm as the fluid dripped between her fingers, each drop sending ringlets through the puddle. “Your plan was to enrage me so I would release you from your living hell, but none of what you said is true. The Gate Keeper and his whore are mere mortals. Nothing more than flesh and blood. Despite your efforts I can see through your treachery.”
She shook her hand off then turned to leave. “Lies,” she repeated, reassuring herself she was still the one in control.
* * *
The gaunt old woman could feel herself drift in and out of consciousness. Such had been her miserable existence for as long as she could recall. They moved her from cell to cell on occasion, giving her a slightly different view, but her daily life as a prisoner changed little.
Even thinner than before, the rings around her wrists had loosened considerably. No longer was she forced to hang from them with her arms up straight. Her captors recognized she couldn’t survive much longer that way and had the chains attached to the wall behind her. And survive she must. Morita wanted her to live out her years in suffering, and needed to make sure her body would withstand those years.
This living hell will never end unless I do something about it. No one is coming to save me. It is up to me and me alone. She felt as if her sanity was beginning to wane. She was no longer sure if the voices in her head were her own thoughts, or a product of her weary mind descending into madness. Seated on the floor, she tried to focus herself. They haven’t been watching close enough. These cufflinks are getting loose!
With her arms no longer strung up, she had regained some strength in them. She rotated her wrist back and forth, pulling and twisting, trying to slip the cuff on one hand. Hearing a loud bang from outside, she froze. It was a familiar sound, but not a welcome one while she was trying to escape. No, not now. Slip free, damn you! Her heart raced with the clacking of approaching footsteps, pushing her to near panic. Who knows what they would do if she were caught.
After a click, the heavy wooden door creaked open. Holding still, greasy white hair matted down over her face, the old woman looked up to see the familiar child. Nothing but an unstable young girl whose mind was broken beyond repair. She wore that all-too-familiar grin with her bloodshot eyes bugged out, and a thin line of drool flowing from the corner of her mouth. So young, yet completely psychotic...
“Hello, my kitten,” said the girl, her mouth hung open unnaturally wide with her severely chapped lips frosted with white. “It’s time to feed.” She held out a small tray with worms, beetles and a number of other squirming insects. A centipede crawled down the side of her wrist, its probing antenna twitching around curiously.
In a snap, her exuberant expression turned to one of sadness. It looked like she might start crying at any moment. “I think a few escaped before I got here,” she said with a sniff. “Meal not whole anymore.”
Suddenly, her creepy open-mouthed smiled returned, eyes bugged out. If not for the smile, one would have thought she looked terrified. “But it’s alright. After meal Morita says we can play. I have game for us, yes?” She reached in her pocket and began throwing down several thin razor blades, small iron nails mixed in with the other metal objects clanging against the stone.
She showed no caution while aggressively scooping out the sharp objects, quickly causing deep cuts to form all over her hand. “There,” she said, throwing down the last handful, blood now
running freely from numerous cuts. “We play when you done.”
The girl pinched one of the centipedes and held it up, balancing the tray in her other palm. It writhed about, curling and straitening as she brought it near the old woman’s mouth. “Hurry, eat. Then we play,” she said, bouncing it to try and make it stop squirming.
With tears streaming from the corners of her eyes, the old woman accepted the gift into her mouth. She chomped away quickly, mostly just to make it stop moving. With her throat so dry, it took several attempts to swallow all the tiny parts. The legs in particular seemed to cling to the sides of her mouth.
“That’s it,” said the girl, her eyes going even wider as she pinched a fat worm and held it up. “Hurry and finish, then we play.”
“Some are getting away,” said the old woman, pointing with her chin. She tried to spit out some dry clinging legs, but managed to expel only a few. Sure enough, many of the insects were dropping off the edge of the tray, inching away in different directions the moment they hit the stone. “Why don’t you place the tray down near my feet? That way I can push them back while you collect them.”
The girl nodded, her open-mouthed grin never wavering. But when she bent down with the tray, the woman brought her knee up with everything she had. Even with her body weakened by years of neglect, surging adrenalin provided power her frail body shouldn’t have been able to generate. She was committed now, and this was life or death.
Her nose crushed, the girl’s head snapped back in a spray of blood. She tumbled backward, sending the tray into the air. No longer hiding that one of her hands was free, the old woman pounced on her, gripping the girl’s throat. She pushed down with all her might, but the weight of her body was so minimal now, and she only had one hand to use. The semiconscious girl managed to roll to the side, the hand slipping off her throat.
“No!” cried the old woman, reaching as far as she could, the other arm fully extended but still chained to the wall. She clawed, nicking at the back of the girl’s hair in desperate swipes. With a final lunge, the chain rang out as it went completely straight; there was not another inch to be had. The woman managed to grip a generous handful of hair and pulled, dragging the girl back into range. Here, she could use her other hand as well.
