by Dylan Peters
“There was something else I wanted to talk about, too,” I said tentatively.
“Here it comes,” my mother said as she wiped a tear from her eye. “You buttered me up before the bad news.”
“It’s just,” I started, “me and the others have been talking about stuff, like, you know, what comes next.”
“And by the others you mean, Anna, Jim and Kay?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I replied. “We want to see what we can become. We think there are more people and more mysticals that we might be able to help. I mean…”
“You want to leave,” my mother said. “You and your friends want to go out into the world.”
“Yeah,” I said and cringed, waiting for disappointment and hurt to show on my mother’s face.
“I think that’s a great idea,” she said. “It’s pretty obvious that you and your friends have been given a gift, and it’s only natural that you should want to learn more about it.”
“Really?” I said. “You’re okay with it?”
“I mean, don’t get me wrong,” she said. “I’ll always worry about you, but I don’t want to be the thing that holds you back. I want you to be happy, I want you to have friends, and I want you to live a full life, Arthur, whatever that might mean in this new world. You should find out what the Everflame can do; what you can do for the world. I’m your mother, I believe in you, and I’m proud of you. You’ve always been a light in my life, and now it’s time for me to let the rest of the world see that light.”
“Thank you,” I said, and hugged my mom.
“And if you need me,” she said. “I’ll be here for you.”
“But what if you need me and I’m not here for you?” I asked.
I shouldn’t have said it because I was the son and she was the mother, and that was the way things were, the way she wanted them. I shouldn’t have said it because I knew that one day, there would be no bonds between us that would be strong enough to stop her from fading away.
“You’ll always be here for me, Arthur,” she said, “because I carry you in my heart.”
I hugged my mother hard and said nothing. Her words deserved to stand unopposed.
“Besides,” she said. “You didn’t think I’d just be sitting here alone with nothing to do, did you? I have my own plans.”
“You do?” I asked.
“Yes, I do,” she said. “I’ve been talking with some people here, others who came out of the Nullwood, and we’ve decided we’re going back in. We’re going to see if there’s anyone who needs help, and to study the dome and the Starless Tower. We have to learn as much as we can about how things changed, and what we can do to create better lives for ourselves. I mean, it’s like I always say: we can be–”
“Angels or we can be devils,” I finished.
“I guess I say that a lot, huh?” My mother said with a smile.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I like it. It’s a good reminder that we should all aspire to be more like angels.”
My mother nodded. “Seems to me like you’ve found an angel for yourself, wings and all.”
“What?” I said, as my mother winked at me. “Mom, stop it. Anna and I are just friends.”
“Sure you are, sweetie,” she said. “Well, I guess you’d better go ahead and take care of that thing you were going to do with Jim.” She followed that with another exaggerated wink. “And tell Jim I said hi.”
I saw Anna as she was wheeling past the school fence, and caught up to her as she was just barely down the road.
“Heading to Esteban’s?” I asked. “I packed some sandwiches and water if you’re looking for company.”
“I’ve got Wisket for company,” Anna said dryly.
“Oh…”
“Arthur, it was a joke,” Anna said with a smile and adjusted her glasses. “I know I’m not the most sociable person, but I’m not that bad, am I?”
I shook my head, though I felt foolish.
“Kay told me you’d be along after you talked to your mother,” Anna added. “I knew you’d catch up. I just didn’t want to wait inside any longer.”
“Oh, well, yeah, I knew you were joking,” I said, trying to pretend I hadn’t been worried. “Anyway, my mom’s cool with it. She actually thought our plan was a good idea.”
Anna sighed as if a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. She turned to me with the biggest smile she had ever given me and then grabbed me by the arm.
“Let’s celebrate,” she said.
“Okay,” I shrugged. “How?”
“With a race.”
Anna leaned forward so that she could unfurl her wings. And that was exactly what she did. Before I knew it, she was floating before me and laughing in the air.
“What are you doing?” I asked. “We’re not very far from the school. What if people see you?”
“I hope they do,” she said. “I don’t care anymore, Arthur. This is who I am, and if they don’t like it then I’ll leave. I can’t stand being in that place anyway. As long as you, Kay, and Jim are with me, I really don’t care what anyone else thinks anymore. So let’s celebrate. Let’s race to Esteban’s.”
“If you’re flying to Esteban’s it’s not going to be much of a race,” I said.
“It could be,” Anna said. “If you let go.”
“You mean…”
“You can’t keep him cooped up forever, Arthur,” Anna said. “Only chickens live in coops.”
With that, Anna rose into the sky and flew away, with Wisket right on her tail. I was left standing in the middle of the empty road next to Anna’s abandoned wheelchair.
Chickens are small animals, the shadow bear said from within me. I don’t like being called a small animal.
“Neither do I,” I said.
You are more of a small animal than I am, the bear said.
“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be on my side?” I asked.
Let us prove to her we are larger than chickens.
I nodded, clenched my fists, and then he materialized before me. The shadow bear roared with happiness and I could feel it flow through me. He bent low, and I leaped on top of him. He was so excited to be free he barely waited for me to right myself before he took off running for Esteban’s.
The wind swept through my hair and the sun beat down on my head as the bear bolted over the ground. I laughed and yelled at the wind. It felt good to be me and be free. It felt good to be able to forget what a world of people would think and just live.
We lost the race, and it hadn’t even been close. Anna was waiting on the beach across the road from Esteban’s when we found her. The bear and I only knew she was there because we could see Wisket playing in the air. I walked over and sat down next to Anna, as she wove grass together in her hands. She wouldn’t tell me how long she and Wisket had been waiting, but I could tell it had been a while.
“Are you scared about leaving it all behind again?” Anna asked.
She had grown pensive in my absence and was now staring at the shadow bear splashing in the shallow water while Wisket flew around him. They played a strange game of tag while the whitecaps rose and fell on the surface of the sea.
“I thought I was going to be,” I said, “but now that I know we’re really going to do it, I’m kind of excited. I mean, there’s a whole world out there waiting for us.”
She nodded and smiled, but continued looking at the ocean. The sun was hot on my face and chest, but there was a little spray of water in the air. It all reminded me of my vision. It reminded me that the world was still mine.
“Can I tell you a secret?” Anna asked.
“Of course,” I replied.
“When Wisket came to me that first night at Esteban’s, he didn’t have wings,” Anna said. “He looked just like a regular fox.”
I was shocked. “When, I mean, how–”
“They grew that night,” Anna said. “After we had made our promises to each other; after we had bonded. He told me in the morning they grew becaus
e of me, that they were, in a way, a part of me.”
“That’s amazing,” I said. “So is that why you grew wings in the Nullwood?”
“We bonded again in the Nullwood,” Anna said, “or I guess our bond deepened. Wisket told me he gained the power to give to me what I had given to him.”
“Wow…” I said and left it at that. I didn’t know what else to say.
There was so much depth to the connection between mysticals and people. It was staggering to think how far we had come, and to think about how it all began.
“Did you want to go up to Esteban’s?” I asked.
“No,” she said. “I think I just want to watch the waves for a while.”
So we did. We sat and stared at the water, and I was more than happy to do so. Wisket and the bear played for a little longer and then sprawled out on the sand and enjoyed the sun. It felt like we had the entire earth to ourselves. I lay back on the sand and stretched my limbs like the bear.
“You know I wouldn’t have left without you, right?” Anna said. “I would have stayed at the school.”
“You would have been miserable,” I said. “You hate that place.”
“But I would have stayed,” she said, “and it wouldn’t have been a hard decision.” Anna turned and looked at me and I saw the sun glint in her green eyes. There was something else in her eyes, a look I hadn’t seen before. “I know I’m not good with people,” she said. “I know I can be sullen, and harsh. I know I can be detached… but I don’t want to be that way anymore. I don’t want to be that way with you.
“What I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry. I’ve lost a lot, and all so quickly. There was a part of me that really thought I would never have someone important in my life again, and I guess I became really afraid, and…”
“It’s okay, Anna,” I said. “I understand how much Wisket means to you—”
“No, Arthur,” Anna said and laughed. “I’m talking about you. If I’m ever sullen or distant, I’m sorry. You’re important to me.”
“You’re important to me, too,” I said and sat up.
Anna’s words made me happy, but also reminded me of how guilty I felt that I had left her while she was in a cocoon. I had been meaning to tell her I was sorry about that.
“I’m sorry I left you in the Nullwood,” I said. “When you were in the cocoon. I didn’t want to leave, I just—”
“It’s okay,” she said. “Honestly, I didn’t even know you were gone. Besides, it was all Ah’Rhea’s fault.”
“Yeah, Ah’Rhea,” I said. Just hearing her name reminded me of what I had almost lost.
“Actually, it was all my fault,” Anna said.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“We followed Ah’Rhea because of me,” Anna said. “You never would have been in danger if it wasn’t for that. I should have sensed what a bad person she was.”
“That isn’t your fault,” I said. “You couldn’t have known her intentions, and we were all looking for answers. We all wanted Ah’Rhea’s help. Besides, I don’t really think she was a bad person.”
“What? She tried to kill you,” Anna said.
“I know,” I said. “But the more I think about it, the more I feel sorry for her. I think she was doing what she thought was right. Unfortunately, she didn’t understand the new world, and instead of doing everything she could to learn about it, she relied on the past to guide her. It’s human nature to rely on past experiences for guidance, but instead of admitting she was on the wrong path, she became angry and frustrated. She allowed fear, ignorance, and her rigidity to misguide her.”
“We were all afraid and confused, Arthur,” Anna argued, “but we didn’t all try to kill you for the Everflame.”
“You’re right,” I said. “We succeeded where she failed, and I want to forgive her that failure. We adapted and allowed ourselves to accept things we might find strange and scary. We learned our new world and worked with new ideas. We were willing to leave the past behind.
“In the end, we unlocked the Everflame, and I think the trick of it was that we had to be working toward the same goal even though we are different people. Jim and I have our differences, but we worked together when it mattered. You and Kay have different strengths, but are still stronger together. We all are.”
“I understand what you’re saying about our success and Ah’Rhea’s failure,” Anna said, “but I still don’t understand why you want to forgive her.”
“I want to forgive Ah’Rhea because I want to believe failure doesn’t etch who we are in stone,” I said. “I really want to believe we can all change. I know I’ve grown from the person I used to be. Jim and Kay have grown. You’ve grown. What if we never got the chance to figure it out? Fear and being unwilling to adapt will drive us apart. Ah’Rhea never learned those lessons, David never learned those lessons, but I want to believe that the rest of the world can.”
“I understand how you feel, and there’s a part of me that knows you’re right.” Anna paused and stared at the horizon. “But I will never forgive David, and I will never forgive Ah’Rhea… I can’t.”
“I get it,” I said.
“So where do we go from here?” Anna asked. “How do we deal with people who are willing to hurt others because they are scared of the world changing?”
“We learn,” I said. “We adapt. We stick together.”
She moved a little bit closer to me and leaned her head against my shoulder. “No matter what?”
I took a deep breath and put my arm around Anna.
“No matter what.”
THE END
The Hands of Ruin
Chapter One
Ah’Rhea sat high above the valley floor, amid the stillness of the land. The warm breeze moved gently against the thick black curls of hair that fell down across her chest, and it carried the sweet vanilla scent that came from the chasm in the valley floor. She set her dirty hands in her lap, closed her bright-green eyes, and enjoyed the moment of tranquility. Aside from the touch of the breeze and the warmth of the sun, she was alone.
It was evening in the valley of Ferrenglyn, and the sunset made the red-brown rock walls of the cliffs below Ah’Rhea look as bright as the embers of a dying fire. She was as still as a statue, and her skin—colored so similarly to the rock walls below—was glad for the warmth of the setting sun. An evening like this always brought memories of him, and she needed these last moments of sun to get her through the chill of a lonely night.
Ah’Rhea sat still for a long time, her legs folded beneath her, eyes closed, face to the sun, until the last sliver of molten orange fell beneath the horizon. The wind picked up and now brought with it the cool promise of night, so Ah’Rhea rubbed her dry hands together, stood, and looked down on the deep, dark chasm in the valley floor. She felt the cracks in her hands as she stared. Years of working with the zulis that came from this valley and from deep within the chasm had made her hands coarse. She sighed, pulled her crimson shawl over her head like a hood, and turned away from the valley. It was time to return to her cave.
The long slab of rock she had been perched on was not far from the entrance to her home, but really the valley and the high cliffs around the chasm were all a part of Ah’Rhea’s home. Her cave was merely her personal space. It was modest in appearance but a fine place to keep vigil over a sacred land. Her cave was something she cherished. Ah’Rhea Eneoh, a great zul master of Ferrenglyn, had earned her cave in the cliffs.
Those who did not understand the ways of Ferrenglyn might find a cave to be an ill-fitting home for such an accomplished and esteemed woman. However, the entirety of Ferren held Ferrenglyn to be sacred land. Ferrenites often made pilgrimages to the Temple of Origin, located in the village that closely bordered the valley. It was how they paid respect, and part of that respect was to leave the zul masters in peace. It was seen as taboo to visit a zul master uninvited, even for those who lived in the village of Ferrenglyn. The cliffs, chasm, and valley were the spiritua
l foundation of a people. The zul masters who lived in the caves were the sentinels that watched over that heart.
Ah’Rhea had trained with zulis for years to hone her skills. Countless hours of work and introspection had shaped her life until she was worthy of the title “zul master.” It was a goal she had pursued ever since early childhood. It was a singular focus, a yearning in her heart, and she had almost completely ignored the temptations of life in order to achieve that goal. Now, she lived a life of honor but also a life of seclusion. The zul masters could live with one another if they should choose. Yet most lived a life dominated by solitude.
Truly, solitude was something Ah’Rhea liked, something she had always preferred. She felt silence had its own sound, and she regarded it as sweet. Even as a small child, she would sit alone, playing quietly with no one to watch her. She could play that way for hours, to both the relief and dismay of her parents. A child that required so little attention was both a blessing and an oddity. However, there was never any reason for Ah’Rhea’s parents to be concerned. Their child was merely content to be alone. The absence of other people never made Ah’Rhea feel lonely. In fact, only the absence of one particular soul had ever made her feel loneliness, and if it were not for him, loneliness might be an alien concept to her completely.
Ah’Rhea couldn’t help but think of him now as she entered the darkness of her cave, the night gathering outside, and lit a candle set on a small table. She traced her hand along the rough wall of her home as she made her way to rest on her velvety mattress. Then Ah’Rhea sat on the soft mattress for three long minutes before sighing and resigning herself to the inevitable. She pulled his letter out from underneath her bed. She had kept it there ever since she had received it. It was the only good-bye she had received on the day he had left. Ah’Rhea reread the letter on nights like this, when the evening sun felt like his hand against her cheek, when her dry eyes yearned for the moisture of tears, when her chest clenched tight with secret sadness and begged for release.
