by J D Abbas
“When I entered the void, it was as if I passed through a series of blades, slicing my body from every direction. I tried to protect the baby.” Elena laid her hands on her rounded belly even as she spoke. “But I sensed them cutting into her. Nakhona did not react in the least, as if she felt none of it, while pain screamed from every inch of my flesh. It was as if the meat of my body hung raggedly from my bones and my life’s blood drained into the emptiness. I heard a host of voices cheer and laugh at my demise. And I sensed things similar to when I first opened the third door in my internal world. Mists or spirits or creatures of some sort wrapped themselves around me, squeezing, trying to steal my breath as they whispered vicious, hateful words.
“Then, suddenly, the jeers and whispers stopped, and one lone voice spoke with strength and clarity: ‘Everything you see and hear in this place is a lie; it is illusion.’ Then silence.
“Complete darkness surrounded me, but even with the absence of light, I could tell that I was very much alive and that in spite of the excruciating pain that ravaged my body, as I ran my hands over my skin, I felt no injured flesh, no blood spilling. I closed my eyes—which were of no use anyway—as Tobil had taught me and focused on what I could sense and see internally.
“Coming toward me was an enigmatic form of a woman. She moved slowly, but I could sense the eagerness with which she approached. I was certain it was Anakh. I slid from Nakhona’s back and raised my blade.
“‘You come against me with a sword.’ She laughed and swept her arm through the air with the intent of knocking the blade from my hand. She seemed genuinely surprised when it remained firmly in my grasp.
“‘So your powers have increased; that is to my benefit. The stronger your abilities are when I absorb you, the greater I become.’
“‘My powers will do you no good,’ I countered, though I am not at all certain why I said that. ‘What is inside me will destroy you.’ Again, I don’t know why I spoke those words; it was almost as if someone else were speaking through me.” Elena laughed at the absurdity of her own words.
“‘I gave birth to you, and I have the right to claim you,’ she told me.
“‘That is a lie. You did not give birth to me. My mother did.’
“‘She was just the conduit. I am your mother. It is my seed that spawned you,’ she said, making no effort to hide her contempt. ‘And now your seed will return to me. As will this child.’ She reached for my belly.
“Instinctively, I swung my sword, and Anakh screeched. She stared in disbelief at the stub on the end of her arm, though it was only a matter of seconds before the hand reformed.
“She glared at me. ‘I am your mother and nothing you can say or do will change that fact.’
“Something inside of me twisted at those words. Despair grabbed my heart, and I fought to conquer it.
“Suddenly another presence was with us. I could not see her with my physical eyes, but I could see her nonetheless. Strength and light and purity exuded from her. She spoke in the most beautiful voice, lyrical, soothing. Her words were like acid to Anakh, searing holes in her vaporous form.
“She spoke my name and said, ‘I am—’”
“Stop!” Abathor said sharply, wresting Elena from the trance into which she had fallen. She turned her startled eyes to him. When he continued, the calm had returned to his voice. “Those words were meant only for your ears, Elena. To speak them would be a grave mistake.”
Elena stared at him, confused and troubled, as tears welled. “I don’t understand. I thought I was to tell you what happened. I thought it was important that I do so.”
“That was before I realized what had been revealed to you,” Abathor replied, his face now filled with tenderness. “You may continue, but hold that one piece of information to yourself. At some point, I may be at liberty to explain it to you; for now, please trust me.”
Elena continued to stare at the elder, measuring the man and weighing his words. The others also eyed him with knit brows. The authority he exuded seemed to silence the many questions yet unspoken.
Elena nodded even as tears dropped from her chin. She was silent for several minutes, adjusting what she would reveal.
“This other presence told me that I was born for this moment, born for this battle, that my life had been … protected.” Elena stumbled on the last word even as the room shook with a rumble that ran through the earth and up the tower.
The elders, now wide-eyed, glanced around at the walls, whose light had dimmed and stopped pulsing.
“She is quite powerful,” noted one.
“Her internal reactions take on enormous proportions here,” added another.
“Who is this girl?” a third asked.
Yaelmargon smiled at her. “I have seen it before. Do not be concerned,” he told his fellow elders. “You may continue, Yaena.” The master nodded toward her. “Do not fear. All here is solid and quite able to withstand the impact of your emotions.” He paused and studied her. “You struggle greatly with that word: protected.”
Elena met his gaze. “It is not one I would choose to describe my life.” She could not keep the bitter edge from her voice.
“Nor I,” Celdorn agreed.
“But you are here, so there is some truth to it,” Abathor pointed out.
“That is a debate for another time,” Lamreth said, putting an end to the argument. “Please continue with your story.”
Elena nodded nervously. “She said … she said that my life had been protected and preserved to undo this evil.” She paused and glanced at the walls, waiting to see if they would shake. “Though the evil one who stood before me was illusion, I knew what I must do. Anakh seemed to anticipate my thought.”
“‘You are not pure enough,’ she sneered. ‘We made certain of that. And you have not the strength to follow through or even the ability to find me. As you have already been told, I am only illusion. You cannot touch me.’
“She was wrong, on most every count, it would seem,” Elena continued. “I reached for the stone that once had been her heart. I reached through time and space and shadow until I felt the mass in my hand.” Elena’s breathing grew more rapid. “Tentacles wrapped around my arms, squeezing and hissing like snakes. I called upon the Jhadhela as I yanked the lifeless heart from its hollow home and thrust it upon the ground. I gripped my sword with both hands”—her voice had grown louder and more intense with each word and her arm movements more animated as she recounted the events—“and with all my might, I drove my blade through the center of it.
“The world exploded. But not just with energy. It was as if every form of evil burst from that foul form. Things I cannot describe to you wrapped themselves around me and ripped through my body, defiling, destroying anything I ever thought was good. I was completely immersed in the wickedness, and it ate my flesh like acid and moved into my bones until it shattered them. It was agony. Complete and utter agony.
“It would not stop. I begged to die. I was sure I would lose consciousness eventually, but on and on it continued.” Her chest heaved as she stared wide-eyed at the center of the table.
Everyone in the room was immersed in her experience—Elena knew but couldn’t stop it. Their bodies were being invaded along with hers, their emotions blown apart. Minutes passed in silent, communal anguish.
She drew a deep, steadying breath. “Then, at last, after hours, days, perhaps years had passed, it ended. And all went blank,” she whispered.
~
Elbrion watched Elena’s eyes close. Coldness crept over him as she sat motionless, her breathing imperceptible. It seemed as if life had departed, and he was looking at the empty shell of a person. All eyes fixed on her as he willed life to return, for if her lifeforce fled, all theirs would soon follow, and the battle would be lost.
Chapter 11
Elena’s eyes popped open, and she jolted upright in her chair. She sucked in a sharp, ragged breath and squeezed her adai’s hands as tiny waterfalls dripped from her chin.
Life had returned, but it felt faint and tenuous inside her.
“Are you all right, little one?” Celdorn whispered in her ear. She leaned into his face, welcoming the warmth of his scratchy cheek, and nodded. He was real, alive, her ada, her precious ada.
Glancing around the room, Elena recalled where she was and the purpose for which they were there. She breathed deeply to slow her heart and forced herself to continue the story of what happened on the Pallanor summit.
“When I revived, I felt a heavy weight upon my chest. I stirred and warm breath covered my face. Slowly my eyes opened to familiar azure ones staring back at me. Nakhona nudged me with her muzzle, repeatedly.
“‘I’m awake,’ I assured her, ‘and I will move when I’m ready.’
“‘My lady, there is no time. Move now,’ she demanded.
“Her urgency, accompanied by another strong internal nudge, drove me to my feet. I slowly unfolded, as one who rises after a prolonged illness, light-headed and confused, and gazed around to orient myself. I was back on the summit, as if no time had passed. When I gazed down the mountain, I saw you approaching,” she said to the Guardians.
“I was overjoyed. Though you were still a great distance away, I waved and called out your names. I mounted Nakhona, intending to meet you, but she refused to obey and, instead, turned and trotted to the ridge of the summit. As I gazed down the far side of the pass, an immediate, terrifying chill ran through me.
“Riding toward the summit were five men mounted on the blackest of steeds, wielding gruesome weapons. The stench of decaying flesh preceded them. I immediately recognized the two in the center from my visions inside the third door, though this time they throbbed with a crimson light, making them that much more terrifying.
“I urged Nakhona to turn heel and begged her to comply. This time she was willing. I rode toward you, crying out your names, but you didn’t respond. Even when I was within a few yards, you still did not acknowledge me. It was only then I realized I was no longer in your world. I could see and hear you, but I was invisible to you.” The hopelessness and torment of that moment gripped Elena once again. She wrapped her arms around herself, shivered, and willed herself to stay in the present moment. Retelling the story, just retelling, no more. She sucked in a deep breath.
“As you drew nearer the summit, I heard Haldor call out and point behind me. He had spied the lead eidolon cresting the peak. I was frantic. I knew that you could not come against them with your swords. I feared they would destroy you. I had not battled with Anakh and passed through the endless labyrinth of shadows, only to helplessly watch you die.
“A fire filled me, and as I drew my sword, it lit with the flames of my soul. I rode ahead of you and planted myself in front of the lead eidolon, demanding that he stop. He gave no response. Apparently, he could not see or hear me either. My warnings fell into empty space.
“Ada,” she said, turning to Celdorn, “when you dismounted and faced the eidolon, I leapt from Nakhona and stood alongside you, determined to find a way to assist you. I watched your sword pass uselessly through him. I wondered if he was illusion, like Anakh. I recalled that when I touched those in guise their true form appeared. I hoped that this would be the case, and I could make him more solid for you to battle.
“I crawled on the ground, to avoid the swordplay, and grabbed hold of his foot. The shadow vanished and a man appeared, tall and lean like the Bengoran. He looked to be a noble of sixty plus years. You didn’t seem to see the transformation, but your sword hit flesh on the next blow. Still, the eidolon seemed unaffected.
“When Elbrion and Haldor increased the volume of their chanting, not only my sword but my entire body burst into flame. It was then I noticed Haldor glance toward me. I knew he saw me …” Elena stopped and hung her head as tears spilled down her cheeks, working to regain her voice so she could continue.
“He … he saw me and yet there was still a chasm between us. I knew he could not hear me as I attempted to explain what to do. Finally, in desperation, I moved toward him and embraced him, hoping that somehow we might merge. Though I cannot explain it, I was successful. I was inside his flesh looking out.”
Eyebrows arched around the table, and the elders glanced at one another.
“I was just as surprised as all of you. I had entered into Mikaelin once before but not as a result of conscious effort; I have no idea how that happened. This time I knew what I was doing.” Elena paused and gave a weak laugh. “Well, in truth, while it was intentional, I didn’t have a clue how it worked.” Elena’s mind drifted to Haldor, remembering. Then she smiled. “It is an amazing thing to be inside another, when that other is kind and good.” She gave a quick sideways glance at Mikaelin. His head turned ever so slightly toward her as if he understood her meaning. “Everything I have always longed to be.
“Once inside Haldor, I could see with his eyes. I urged him forward and directed him to grab hold of the eidolon’s heart, which I could see so clearly. When the explosion happened, I was separated from Haldor and could no longer see any of you. I also saw no evidence of the eidola. A knowing passed through me that they were defeated. I stood on the mountain top, alone once again, save for my steed.” Elena paused and hugged herself tighter, feeling the agony of that isolation, something she hoped to never feel again.
“I prayed and begged and longed for you all to be well. Nakhona urged me to mount and promised to bring me to Queyon. I didn’t want to leave, not without giving you some sign that I was all right. My guess was that my things would become solid if they left my possession, so I set up a display in hopes that you would see it and understand. I didn’t know that Haldor was injured, or I would have remained.”
Elena clutched her hands over her heart as it twisted. “I-I knew he was pure enough to pierce the darkness and prevail. I just didn’t realize it would cost him his life.”
“It cost him his body, Elena, not his life,” Abathor corrected gently. “He is very much alive, as you have seen.” He tipped his head toward the empty chair.
“You saw him?” she whispered.
“Of course. Such things rarely escape my notice,” he added with a mischievous smile.
“I thought perhaps it was only my eyes playing tricks on me.”
“No, dear one, he was very much present, perhaps in the same way you were present on the mountaintop though the others could not see you.”
“But I wasn’t dead.” Then, as Abathor held her gaze, she began to understand. “He … he is not dead?”
“Define ‘dead,’ Elena,” Lamreth interjected.
“Dead is dead. The body does not breathe or move or feel,” she answered, agitated by the question.
“That is the body. And what of the unseen? The umm … soul, to use your term?” Abathor pressed.
“But I have been in that realm where Haldor is, and I was not dead in this world. And it was not just my soul; all of me was there,” she argued.
“Was it?”
“Enough, Abathor, you are upsetting the girl,” Wezhar chided. “Let her finish her tale.”
“Elena, how did you etch the word on your blade?” Elbrion asked, returning to the course of events.
“What word?”
“Celdorn, did you bring her sword?”
“I did,” her ada replied, pulling the scabbard from a pouch at his feet. He removed the sword from its sheath and laid it on the table in front of Elena. “This,” he pointed to the etching.
Elena studied it, then shook her head. “I didn’t do that. What does it say?”
“Believe,” Elbrion replied.
Elena’s eyes widened. “I don’t understand. I left my things there for you, so you would know I was alive, but I don’t know how that came to be there.” She looked from Elbrion to Celdorn to the elders.
“Hmm, perhaps Haldor had a last word to speak to you,” Abathor said with a tilt of his head.
“Or to us all,” Lamreth corrected. “It is a reminder that we are only seeing and exper
iencing a small part of reality. Many powers are at work of which we are often unaware. Do not despair, Elena, Haldor is quite alive and still quite active. You did him no harm.”
The room was shaken by another violent quake. Elena scanned the walls nervously.
“Young lady, we must do something about your guilt and shame or you are likely to be the undoing of this ancient structure,” Lamreth said sternly.
Elena cringed. “I-I am sorry. It was not intentional; I assure you.”
“The problem is you think far too highly of yourself, Elena.” Lamreth’s judgment was swift and peremptory.
“No, sir, that is not the case,” she objected as the heat rose in her face. “I don’t believe myself worth anything at all.”
“But you believe you have great power,” he continued doggedly.
Elena glanced to her left and right. “No. I do not. You all seem convinced of my power and my gifts. I don’t understand what has happened, but I don’t believe I am at all powerful.”
“Then how is it that you orchestrated the movement of the Zakad to attack? How did you bring the Morgot to life? How did you summon the eidola? How did you cause the mountain to erupt?” he demanded.
Elena stared blankly back at the Xiander, tears spilling again. “I don’t know how to answer you. I don’t even know what a Morgot is. When did the mountain erupt? I didn’t cause any of those things,” she whispered.
“Precisely, dear girl.” Lamreth’s expression softened. “You would blame yourself for the deaths of Haldor, Lillianna, and the others, and yet you had no knowledge of nor control over the circumstances that brought about their demise.” He paused to allow his words to sink in. “Greater powers are at work than yours, Elena. As gifted as you are, you are not all powerful.”
As she pondered the elder’s words. Elena felt something inside her loosen—a guilt that had bound her, had squeezed the life from her.
Gratefully Celdorn redirected the discussion. “Little one, what happened after you set up your things?”
