by M. Arcturus
With a loud clanging roar, Campanula hit the marble floor. The chains jangled and clanged as they crashed to the rock floor around her. Resheda wasn’t that scared. Her friend was more peaceful now than ever and was free to release her from her bonds as well. However, her crew had their suspicions.
Campanula sat on the floor in the only ray of pale blue light that graced their cell. Slowly, she looked at her hands as if she was seeing them for the first time. The chains rattled as they were lifted off of the floor so she could examine her wrists, which still donned the bonds that held her to the wall. She lightly ran the fingers of her left hand down the chain that cinched her right arm. The chain dangled there like a cold, unforgiving reminder.
“I’m scared,” she whispered like a little girl, “They bound me. I couldn’t break free.”
Like a newborn deer, she stood up and wobbled a bit as she took her first step forward. Watching her friend closely, Resheda kept silent, head down toward the floor, not making eye contact. Campanula was still out of it and under the lingering effects of the Bennu blood. She used to move with purpose and seduction. Now, her every move was jerky, almost clumsy. Even her voice was soft and weak, unlike her usual passionate, yet commanding voice.
“Please help me,” she begged. She touched the glass door to the cell.
She peered out the glass cell door toward the cell across the way. Out of concern and trepidation, the crew huddled together, sitting on a marble bench along the back wall, looking like a dark brown mass against the dark blue shadows of their cell. She couldn’t even tell that they were there. Then one of the pirates looked up. The whites of his eyes reflected the glow from the pale blue ray of light shining into Resheda’s cell. Campanula caught sight of his eyes and plastered herself up against the glass. She started to lick it, bite at it, and smear herself all over the cell door.
“Please, let me out. Help me. Don’t you want me?” Her voice was soft and playful, yet dripped with the pain of possible rejection.
Resheda now understood that she was not safe. Her only hope was not to make eye contact until Campanula regained her sanity. One of her crew members stepped forth, as much as he could, and mimicked Campanula’s movements hoping to spare his captain from almost certain doom. Campanula’s cries for help became louder in response, and Resheda looked up at the other cell to see what was going on. Almost instantly, the pirate across the way became more active and started to yell out promises of freedom to Campanula. Resheda thought it was strange of him to make so much commotion the same moment she looked up at him, and then fear struck her. Figuring it was too late to replace her ignorance with newfound intelligence, she looked at Campanula, who in return, was looking right at her.
The movement of her head had caught Campanula’s attention. Now her crew, realizing the situation, all started to act up in hopes of keeping Campanula’s attention. However, the idea of a playmate in her own cage seemed far more appealing. Slowly, she crept up to Resheda. Her movements were still jerky, but with intentional authority. “You don’t want to help me?”
Resheda kept quiet. Her friend’s cold scathing claws touched the side of her face. Though the veins had submerged back under Campanula’s skin, her nails were still unnaturally long and sharp. Her eyes remained black and glassy. Clawing at Resheda’s chest, she whispered a request for help.
“Please, help me. Take me away from here. They bound me to the wall. Please free me!” Her clawing gradually became more fierce and forceful. Her fingernails started to penetrate the skin, and blood was beginning to collect on the floor.
Resheda let out a bloodcurdling scream as agonizing pain seized her. She struggled to free at least one of her hands, but the chains held taut. Crying hot tears from the excruciating torture, she could feel Campanula start to slice through the top layer of sinew and muscle. Her clothes and skin had been shredded in a matter of seconds under Campanula’s machine-like, razor claws. Pain overtook her, and she finally uttered her first words to her friend since the turn of events.
“I will help you,” she said with a shaky voice riddled with urgency and tears. “Please just stop. You’re killing me. Please just use your claws to cut through the chains, and I will help you out. You can be free!”
Campanula acted like she didn’t even hear her plea. Still shredding her way through her friend’s body, she repeated, “Please help me. Please help me.” Campanula finally stopped and began to pout, almost cry like a child not knowing what was happening.
Still bawling, Resheda tried to remain calm and peered helplessly back at the chains that held her. She continued her plight, “If you cut through my chains we can make it out together, you and me. Please stop. You’re killing me,” Resheda begged. Campanula fell silent for a moment. Resheda thought she had stopped to hear her out. “Please, if you don’t stop, I will die soon.” Her mind flashed back to her last encounter with her precious cargo.
Please let me out; I will die soon, came the echoing ghostly words from the burlap sack.
They were practically the same words she had just uttered. Please if you don’t stop, I will die soon, came her own echo ringing in her ears.
Campanula looked up, wiped the tears from her eyes, and whispered, “Please help me!”
Resheda now knew that she hadn’t stopped to hear her out. Campanula’s reasoning was far too gone. Like a child, Campanula didn’t understand that freeing her friend would be freeing herself as well. All she knew was that she was not free, and no one was helping her. Resheda looked down. Her sight was growing dim. She could see her organs starting to be exposed to the air and realized that even if Campanula stopped, she would die anyway. The pain was beyond anything she had ever experienced. Campanula slowly started to shred again. Resheda screamed a second bloodcurdling scream until her last breath ran out. As her entrails fell to the floor, her body fell limp. Still, in her drugged, delusional state, Campanula started to shred the corpse even more as she came to realize that she was now all alone.
Before departing the physical plane, Resheda’s spirit smiled at Campanula. She was not upset at her friend. Only compassion existed in her core. Campanula didn’t know what she was doing. Resheda’s spirit kissed Campanula gently on the forehead, and that’s when Campanula came around. She looked at her bloodied hands and then back at her friend. Tears of realization streamed down her face as she collapsed on the floor. Burying her face in her blood-drenched hands, she sat in the pale light replaying the image over and over again in her head of her friend’s mutilated body hanging on the wall. Destiny had been served.
In the Council chamber, a few moments after the blood-chilling screams, the girl finally stirred. Selené stared at her. Even though she was blindfolded, she followed Selené’s every move. Unexpectedly, the girl spoke.
“Destiny has been served.” The message was sent flat and clear, and she began to lower her head.
“What do you mean by that?” asked Selené in hopes that she wasn’t too late for a response.
With her head halfway lowered, the girl replied, “She was right. I was her destiny as well as her fate. Fate…Destiny has been served.”
“What part of that woman’s destiny were you?”
“She brought me here.” The girl’s head was now lowered all the way, which meant discussion was now over.
Selené stood in astonishment for a while. Out of all the things that could have been said first, the girl had chosen such a heavy message. The shuffling of running feet clouded Selené’s deep contemplation as more guards ran past her dark imprisonment once again toward the staircase, but there was one who ran in the other direction. After running past the darkened doorway, he backtracked, darted into the dark room, and took to hiding. Her favorite person had decided to duck inside the Council chamber’s door.
There was no question in her mind. She didn’t have to see him to know it was he who hid sheepishly while his men were taking care of t
he situation. During the commotion, the guards must have gotten Juron involved and being the coward, he was, he must have run at the first sign of trouble. Selené could hear him breathing heavily as he took his place amongst the shadows. After he slowed his heartbeat, he realized that he had made a mistake in choosing his hiding place. He had forgotten that he had imprisoned Selené and the girl in that very same room.
Selené had been so fearful of the unpredictable man Juron had become, to hear him cower in the dark gave her strength to speak up, “Juron, I may not be able to see you, but the atmosphere grows dense from your presence. Tell me, why is it that you see me as such a threat? We are friends, you and I, aren’t we? There’s nothing to hide from me.”
Juron whimpered quietly in the dark. By the time he reached the edge of the spotlight, he had composed himself and looked as if he was able to control every aspect of the universe, including tiny little grains of sand. “No, I don’t see you as a threat. I’m just making sure you’re present for your trial. After all, what type of leader would I be if I didn’t follow through with the rules? If I don’t follow them, do you think others will?”
Selené carefully eyed Juron. His quick shift in behavior, from whimpering to arrogant, let her know that Juron was not stable and could not be trusted, but she found herself growing tired of feeling fearful around him. What more could he do to her? She was already in his cage.
“Actually, I want to be here for my trial. I will take responsibility for my actions. It is my fault for getting myself into this mess. I did board a ship that didn’t belong to me.” Thinking back on what Seth and Raydorian had to say about the ship, she smiled before adding, “Then again, because there’s no proof that there was a ship importing goods that night at port, it seems like you’ve got a problem on your hands.”
“So the ship arrived by accident, the storm remember?” The singsong tone in his voice made him sound condescending.
“Then why or what did they unload, Juron?” asked Selené bitterly. “If they were here by accident, then how could I have been there, right on time to steal cargo if they had no business with us?” She knew she had him now.
He stopped for a moment to think things through. Logically, there were holes in her line of thought. She could have been walking the foothills, saw the ship and ran to the docks to raid it, but he, being one person verses Selené and the ship’s crew? Eventually, the other two, Pandora and Kajaka, would be brought up. He could keep them locked up during the Council meeting, but there was no way of keeping Selené’s mouth shut. She was right; he wasn’t prepared to admit to the Council that a ship of any kind had docked at the port. He was sure that the Council would want to hear from the ship’s captain and Campanula. He had three women speaking at the trial tomorrow, all stating that he knew about it. How was he going to get out of this one? In a quick instant, he changed the direction of his thoughts. Not knowing how much Selené knew, he tried to cover up his tracks.
Before he replied, sorrow briefly took hold of him. He didn’t like acting like this toward his friend. What had he become and why was he so protective of his new hidden possession? After all, there would eventually be plenty to go around. He took a deep breath and stepped down from his high horse, but knew the show had to go on.
“You’re right about the ship, Selené. In fact, I just found the paperwork for the shipment in my office right before the guards came to me with a problem they needed my help to solve. Although I wasn’t expecting the ship’s arrival till morning, the storm blew it into port early. All that was aboard was just regular cargo,” he stated bluntly without defense and almost warmly.
Selené’s expression was of pure shock. When Juron said the words ‘regular cargo’, she instantly remembered more of the conversation she had with Raydorian. This ship was not Atlantean. If Atlantean ships were the only ones used for imports, then there was no reason for this ship to drop cargo off. Even though these memories gave her a little boost of confidence, she also began to question herself; all she had were the words from a man who loved to gossip. Maybe Juron hadn’t closed them off to outsiders. Should she believe Juron or Raydorian?
Seeing the confusion on her face, Juron tried to guess at what she was thinking. Before Selené had the chance to speak, Juron continued in hopes to resolve any questions she might have, “You know, an exchange of our pure oils for their pure oils, furniture, art, vases, and clothing. We’ve needed this cargo for quite some time. I do admit that I wasn’t expecting her,” said Juron gesturing to the blindfolded girl. “I thought it was just a regular shipment. I didn’t know she would be on board. She is The Destroyer, you know. She hasn’t said much. That’s why I left her hanging there. I’m not real sure what to do with her. Do I treat her as a guest or as an adversary?”
Selené was a little surprised at the turn of events. With the calm, soothing tone of his voice, he was beginning to sound like the old Juron she had known just a few days ago. Just moments before, she was ready to turn the Council trial on him, and now she was wondering if what they were planning to do would work, or even be the right thing to do. Since he was planning to admit that the ship was scheduled to dock and found the cargo invoice, that took away some of the argument that she was going to present to the Council. Plus, his attitude had changed back—whether temporarily, she didn’t know. She didn’t talk to Juron every single day, so she wasn’t quite sure what happened to change him, nor which day it happened on. Maybe he wasn’t acting like himself because he had become overwhelmed with work. All she knew was that they had been friends for twelve years, but he had only been acting like a tyrant for two days. She knew her friend was bound to be in there somewhere.
Trying to get a clearer understanding of imports without bringing up Raydorian, she pressed a bit further. “I figured that since the ship was so unique that its cargo would be unique as well.”
Juron smiled, “And how often do you deal with the incoming and outgoing ships here on Atlantis?”
He touched on the very point she had been dancing around this whole time. Selené swallowed hard before answering, “I don’t. I just witness the individually owned fishing boats.”
“Oh, so you didn’t know that the body wash you love so well comes in on ships like that?” He asked with a smirk, fully knowing that he had just created his defense for the Council meeting. She knew nothing about the port and didn’t know, firsthand, that only Atlantean ships were used for both imports and exports. As for the paperwork, he could easily design a document using a hologram cube, and put it into a materializer to physically generate it. She would never know what the original invoice said. Not knowing there was a hidden thought behind his smile, believing his smile was genuine, she let down her guard and grinned. Her grin was out of embarrassment from the question he had asked. Her knowledge of the cargo was based on a lot of assumption and hearsay, and he was right. She did love rose-scented body wash, and it had to be imported somehow. All she could do was take his word for it. “Well, how about this. Take my hand,” he said inserting his hand into the spotlight, “Let’s get you out of there.”
“What about her, and the guards?” asked Selené. “There must be something wrong for them to be in such a hurry like that!”
“I believe one of the jail guards had problems in dealing with one of the inmates. The ship’s crew has not been the most cooperative group of people. They all had to be confined. I’ll send some of my personal guards to see to the situation. I’m not any good at warding off attackers. I’ll probably just be in the way. The girl, I think, can stay here for a bit longer. I can’t see turning her loose without supervision; the city would likely be destroyed. The myths never say how or what she does to level empires. Besides, I would like to discuss this further in a more relaxed environment. I’m open to your suggestions. Let’s go have some tea.” He smiled at her with warm intentions like he used to.
Selené walked over to the girl, “I’m sure you’ll b
e more comfortable soon. I’ll see if I can get you out of these chains.” Selené looked at the blindfold. “Did you want me to take your blindfold off?” Selené reached for the cloth.
“Don’t,” came the telepathic answer. It may not have been spoken, but it was polite, to the point, and echoed softly in Selené’s inner ear.
Selené put her hand down, turned around, and with hesitation she took Juron’s hand. She still had questions about the crew members down in the jail cells. Had Kajaka and Pandora rebelled so much for Juron to believe it was best to keep them in jail cells as well? Surely that was not a part of their character. Worst-case scenario, Pandora would have tried to run away, but fight the Secret Guard? She would have been scared, but not nuts!
As gently as he could, he pulled her out into the darkness. Though she still had her doubts, at least this way she could get some answers. Without wasting time, they left the Council chamber and headed for his quarters. Tea did sound good.
The crew could hear the guards at the main entryway debating whether they should open the gate to see what all the commotion was about. The crew knew if Campanula were to attack them, the guards would most likely choose to run instead of letting them out, which was very unnerving as they watched the cold dark cell across the way. Every once in a while, they caught a glimpse of a hazy splotch of glimmering white light floating about the cell. Slowly recovering, Campanula remained curled up like a black lump in the middle of the cell floor. Jarrah looked up from his chains and narrowed his eyes trying to see a definition in the glowing white figure that flew around Campanula, but he already knew. It was Resheda. She had died and was trying to cross over into afterlife, but she couldn’t find her way out.
He rehashed the memories and events from the past few years. The dragons had caught up with all of the original crew members except for him. He was the last one. Still not knowing what it would take for redemption, he vowed silently to himself that he would correct his wrongs. It was only a matter of time now. He knew that turning his life over to the Great Spirit would be difficult and challenging, but to receive redemption would be worth it. Looking at Resheda’s ghostly mass, he knew he’d better give it all he had to make things right.
