Eye of the Tornado

by Kevin Domenic

  "Take your hands off of that sword!" Kindel hissed. "Just who do you think you are? It is mine, curse you!" He lunged at Arus like a feeble old man, and was easily shoved to the ground.

  "I am the voice for those who have no voice," Arus proclaimed. "I am the power for those who have no power. I am the defense for those who have no defense. So many have died unjustly at your hands. So many helpless souls lost to your anger. I'll never let it happen again! Do you hear me? You're through, Kindel. The Aeden Alliance High Council will decide what becomes of you, but until then, know that I will be watching you, and should you try to escape, I will do what I must to keep you from spreading terror across the universe again."

  Again, Kindel rose to his knees. "You are a boy," he muttered over and over, struggling back to his feet. "I cannot be defeated by a child. I won't be! Do you hear me?"

  "I am a child no longer," Arus said, turning away. "I have taken on the responsibilities placed before me, and I shall perform my duties with honor." For a moment, he could almost feel the hand of Eaisan Lurei on his shoulder, then it was his father's. Looking at the now shimmering blade in his grasp, he made a vow to spend his life doing everything in his power to ensure the safety and security of not just Keroko, but the entire universe. He only wished Vultrel would've stood beside him. "Gather yourself together, Kindel," he said, walking back toward where Kitreena and Damien stood. "You're coming with us."

  "Fool!" Thorus shouted, and a crimson glow grew behind Arus. "You are a fool!"

  Damien and Kitreena screamed out in unison. "Arus, look out!"

  A snarl of anger curled Arus' lips, and as a blinding bar of white-hot energy surged from Kindel's palms, the Lifestone amulet began to glow. The young man turned and lunged at the same time, his body twisting through the light, barreling through the attack, the Blade of Kaleo shielding him from harm. One long swipe of the glimmering sword cleaved Kindel Thorus in two, and the mighty Zo'rhan warrior's body fell to the ground with a dull thud.

  For a while, Arus merely stood there, arm extended with the Blade of Kaleo shedding its light. He knew it was odd to feel remorse for the death of such a tyrant, but then, that was what separated the two of them. His compassion for life, in all forms, brought with it the inevitable sadness when one of those lives refused to respect the sanctity of the others. Kindel Thorus could've been a great man, a wise leader, and a powerful guardian of peace across the galaxy. It was a shame that his ambitions cost him his life. Arus flexed his steel hand and shook his head at how close he'd come to following the very same path.

  At last, he drew in the sword and looked upon the fallen Zo'rhan. What he saw nearly made him jump. Kindel Thorus, severed at the waist, was looking back up at him. Even more startling was that the billowing blue glow had faded from his eyes, reverting them to their natural state of brown. He had brown eyes, just like his brother. "Why . . ." he whispered, mouth barely moving. "Why . . . did this happen?"

  "I'm sorry, Kindel," Damien's voice came from behind. His own eyes glistened with wetness as he kneeled beside his brother. "I tried so hard to avoid this. I didn't want to lose you. You are my only brother, after all."

  Kindel stared up at him for several seconds before his lips formed a faint smile. "You only . . . did what you . . . had to do." The words took a moment to register in Arus' mind, and even then he wasn't sure he'd heard correctly. Kindel Thorus, leader of the Vezulian Armada and the man who sought to control the universe through fear, almost sounded as though he was admitting fault for everything that had happened. "I wish . . ." he murmured, his gaze shifting to the early-morning sky, "that I'd never left . . . Zo'rhan." His words were growing faint. "Perhaps all of this . . . could have been avoided."

  That put a smile on Damien's face wider than Arus had ever seen before. "I believe some would call that repentance," he said softly.

  Whether or not Kindel heard him was hard to say. His eyes rolled closed as he spoke again. "Aldoric . . . Do you remember . . . the lullaby that Mother . . . sang to us as children?"

  "I do," Damien replied, his voice catching. "I do," he said again after clearing his throat.

  "Would you . . . mind?" he asked, though Arus had to repeat the mumbled words over and over in his head before he understood them. "One . . . last . . . time?"

  A lengthy silence passed before Damien began to sing, his low voice resonating across Trader's Square in spite of the soft tune. Kitreena put her head on Arus' shoulder with a sniffle and a comforting arm around his waist. She looked haggard and exhausted, and with good reason. The battle had taken its toll on everyone and pushed the limits of many. Damien was in visible pain as well, both emotionally and physically, and Arus couldn't wait to have Doctor Nori work on his knee. Many had died—too many—both in space and on the surface, and there was still much left to be done. Rounding up the remains of the Vezulian Armada was going to be a chore. The Kyrosen would have to be dealt with as well, though that seemed more like a minor inconvenience after everything Arus had just survived. Still, a major battle had been won, and the day's events would undoubtedly send shockwaves across the universe.

  Damien's somber song rose through the streets of Keroko with the sun, a stark contrast to the reaction that would surely ring out across the stars when news of the fall began to spread. It was a moment that billions of people across thousands of worlds had waited for, a moment that Damien had been dreading for centuries. The Blade of Kaleo was safe, the Vezulian Armada deposed, and a notorious tyrant vanquished for good. Such events should've been reason for jubilation, but there was little to celebrate in Trader's Square. The universe had lost a powerful warrior who, had he but opened his eyes, could've helped countless people with his strength and intelligence. Damien had lost his brother, his only remaining relative. But perhaps the most bittersweet part of it all was that it had taken death for Kindel Thorus to learn the price of vengeance.

  Chapter 9

  News of Kindel's death spread fairly quickly, and it wasn't long before a cease-fire was declared between both sides of the conflict. The Vezulian soldiers threw down their arms in favor of negotiations with the Aeden High Council. Many were arrested, some were pardoned, and others fled before they could be captured. Memorial services were held for the thousands of dead while survivors thanked the Maker for a second chance to live peaceful lives. A pledge was made to move forward together in cooperation to serve and protect every planet in need, every nation in peril, every soul in distress. And while those that escaped took no part in such an agreement, their separation from both each other and their esteemed admiral reduced them to little more than interstellar pirates. The Vezulian Armada was disbanded within weeks, and the Aeden Alliance established themselves as major purveyors of peace and justice across the universe.

  Amidst the aftermath of the war, word of a reconciliation within the Kyrosen began to emerge. Sartan Truce was dead, and Muert Bloodlust—now using the name Muert Lodi—had taken the reigns with a new vision for his people. He vowed that the violent and destructive Kyrosen were no more, and that he and his followers would find a quiet section of the universe in which to settle down and begin again. When that news reached Terranias, every kingdom and village rejoiced with a celebration that filled the atmosphere. With the threat of terror lifted from their shoulders, they could begin the rebuilding process full of hope and excitement, eager to learn what the future would bring. At last, fear would no longer cloud their lives.

  The High Lady Almatha was returned to Belvidia, and F'Ledro was handed over to the Royal Guard of Aerianna. Kitreena opted not to escort him herself, saying that the political turmoil that would ensue upon learning of her survival would be more than she was prepared to bear. Emergency assistance crews were sent to both Arynias and Terranias to assess the damage left behind by Kindel and assist with the recovery efforts. Limited communication lines were opened with the remaining Ayaans as Aeden Ambassadors arrived to attempt to deliver apologies for the events that had disrupted their world. Cleanup crews
arrived in Keroko the day of Kindel's death, though the heroes that had saved the planet from certain annihilation had taken the first transport available to return to the Refuge. There was one last task to be completed, but was postponed until the injuries sustained during the struggle had been healed. Teleportation required immense strength and concentration, after all. Especially when teleporting across dimensions.

  Arus was in the gym when Damien arrived, working his sword for the first time since being medically cleared to return to his training. The captain of the Refuge was clad his usual attire, though he'd replaced his cloak with one made of a silky black material, thick and soft, lined with a deep blue on the inside. It looked much like the one Kindel used to wear. "Are you ready?"

  "I suppose," Arus said with a shrug. "Are you sure you've recovered enough strength?"

  "The only things holding me back now are my nerves," Damien admitted, putting a hand to his forehead. "You know how I feel about teleportation. Doing it across dimensions makes it that much worse."

  "But Mateo said you could do it," Arus reminded him. "Trust him. He hasn't led us wrong so far."

  "Doesn't make it any easier. Where's Kitreena?"

  "I'm here," Kitreena said, peering through the doorway. She was dressed in her black leather pants and a soft pink shirt that had had its sleeves torn off at the shoulders, a look Arus was convinced he'd inspired. Her hair was neatly pulled back in a thick ponytail that reached more than halfway down her back. "Is it time?"

  Damien gave her a reluctant nod. "It is. Shall we?"

  They headed down to the storage level together. By Damien's orders, security on the deck had been tripled, and Aeden guards patrolled the halls in pairs. A line of six soldiers greeted them when the lift doors slid open, and they parted with nods of acknowledgment for their captain. As they headed for the security vault, Damien drew a small flat key from the leather pouch at his hip; Kitreena carried its twin. A group of twenty men, heavily armored with rifles held ready, stood between the two consoles that controlled the vault's locking mechanism. They stood aside for Damien and Kitreena, and the two inserted their keys in unison. The heavy door slid open with a metallic thud.

  "I get nervous every time I look at it," Kitreena said, shuddering. "To think of the damage it caused . . ."

  A solid green box, long and slender and crafted from the finest titanium, sat in the center of the vault in front of the nearest storage containers. It had been crafted to store small, shoulder-mounted missile launchers, but that wasn't what it held now. A half-ring of soldiers surrounded it, weapons held at the ready. Inside, the Blade of Kaleo waited to be returned to the Fourth Dimension. "It wasn't the cause of the damage, Kit," Arus corrected her. "Thorus was the cause. A weapon in itself isn't inherently evil." He tapped a finger against the implant. "The selfish intentions of mortals make them evil."

  Damien entered a ten-digit authorization code into a panel embedded within the side of the case, and the latches popped open. Reflections of light sparkled across the clear blade; remarkably, it looked as smooth and pristine as if it had never been wielded in combat. "Keep in mind that while this sword was used to bring great destruction, it was also used by Arus to end the war." His fingers drifted toward the hilt before he realized what he was doing and jerked them back. "Arus, it's all yours."

  Arus couldn't help but grin. "I don't think it would hurt either of you the way it did Kindel," he said, lifting the weapon from the case. The instant his fingers touched it, a rolling white glow filled the blade. "You both want what is best for the universe, just as I do."

  "After seeing what happened when it was in the wrong hands, I'd rather not," Damien responded. "Ready?"

  "As ready as I can be," Arus said at the same time as Kitreena nodded.

  Gradually, a glow of white light surrounded Damien before spreading to encompass all three. The world vanished into darkness, and a second later, they were standing on a floating island of dirt in the center of the Fourth Dimension. Waves of pink and blue rolled through the sky behind the glowing orb of Lifestone high above the various brown plateaus. Damien stood to Arus' left and Kitreena to his right. "Well, here we are. Now what?"

  There was a gathering of light, and suddenly Mateo's shimmering form appeared before them. "Grace and peace be with you," he said through a wide smile. "The heavens rejoice at your safe return."

  Arus smiled and bowed before hefting the Blade of Kaleo. "The threat caused by the Vezulian Armada is no more, and we've come to deliver the Blade of Kaleo."

  Mateo extended his hands, and the sword leapt from Arus' grasp and rose into the sky, twirling with a light whiter than the finest snow. It ascended high above them all and slowed to a stop, hovering in mid-air. "Under the Maker's watchful eye, Azriel's weapon will be protected until Kuldaan's armies strike again. You have done remarkably well, although I see that we are missing someone."

  "I'm sorry," Arus said, stepping forward, "but Vultrel did not heed your warnings, it seems. I've heard rumors that he was killed confronting Sartan Truce, but I don't know if that is true. I hope, for his sake, that it is not."

  "You care more for your friend than you allow to show," Mateo noted with a raised eyebrow. "Why is it that you were not more vocal with him about his decisions?"

  Arus had to think about that before responding. Vultrel had always been like an older brother to him, a more experienced fighter, more confident in himself, stronger, faster, braver, and more cunning than Arus could have ever hoped to be. To try to give him advice would've been like trying to tell Master Eaisan how to hold a sword. "I know I am inferior to him in many ways. Who am I to tell him what he should be doing with his life?"

  "And yet here you are, alive and well after helping to quell a great danger to your universe while his fate remains uncertain. You see, each of us has the capacity to learn, yet not many realize that we each have the capacity within us to teach as well. You have more to give the universe than you think, Arus. Do not think so lowly of yourself. Everyone has a place, and everyone can have an impact."

  That made Arus frown. "Are you saying that if I'd said more to Vultrel about his decisions, he might be alive today?"

  "He is alive," Mateo replied calmly, "and his fate will fall on your hands very soon."

  Arus' shoulders slumped. More than enough had been placed on his back as of late, and he finally thought he was going to get some relief. No such luck, apparently. "My hands? Why me?"

  "Because you're his best friend. He needs you right now. For so long, he has supported you and encouraged you and defended you, and he's relied on his father to do the same for him. Without Eaisan Lurei, he is lost and confused, and he needs someone to guide him. Someone he knows and trusts."

  "The few comments I've made regarding his choices were not well received," Arus pointed out. "I seem to upset him more than anything else."

  "Just because you cannot see it at the moment does not mean that your words fall on deaf ears," Mateo responded. "Talk to him, Arus. Support him. No matter what it takes. He will come around, but you must stand firm."

  Arus sighed and nodded. It wasn't that he didn't want to help Vultrel, but he'd never been good at fixing people's problems. And he knew that if he couldn't help someone or ended up saying the wrong thing, he'd forever blame himself for that failure. But, Mateo had predicted many things that had come true, so Arus conceded. He would try his best to help Vultrel and hope that his best was good enough.

  "May I ask a question?" Kitreena asked, stepping forward. "When we first came here, you told us that we had been groomed for the tasks we were about to face since long before we even entered into the universe. Yet we are far from perfect people. I've had troubles letting go of my hatred, for example, but the tasks that were set before me were ones where mercy and kindness—two things I've never had an abundance of—were needed. Why was I chosen? There are so many people out there who are better suited to show love and kindness. Why did the responsibility fall on the shoulders of someone li
ke me?"

  "The same could be asked for the rest of us," Damien added.

  "Let me ask you something," Mateo began, walking toward the edge of the island. "If a man of amazing kindness had rescued F'Ledro unharmed, what would you have learned? If a warrior with unreal strength had been there to defeat Kindel Thorus with one swing of his sword, what would you have learned? For that matter, if everyone went through life without facing situations that challenged them to better themselves, what would anyone learn?"

  Kitreena frowned, crossing her arms. "But how could you be sure we would make the decisions we did? Seems like a pretty big gamble to take, considering how many lives were at stake."

  The warmth of Mateo's smile was soothing. "The Maker knows you better than you know yourselves, Kitreena. He was confident that you would do what you knew in your hearts to be right."

  "Then what of Vultrel?" Arus asked him. "By all accounts, he did no such thing."

  "Everyone grows differently, in their own way, in their own time. The Maker will continue to offer him opportunities to do so, but it is up to him to choose right from wrong."

  Arus could only hope Vultrel opted for a change of focus sooner rather than later. He missed his best friend and wished that they could be fighting side-by-side against evil as the team they once were. But Vultrel had been given the opportunity to see his mistakes, a chance to relinquish his anger and tread more noble waters. He still had that chance so long as he breathed, but it would only take a single foolish mistake to change all that. How he could continue in such ignorance was beyond Arus; it wasn't every day that a messenger from the Maker came along to warn a person about the dangers ahead. Most people never received such a blessing, and for Vultrel to throw it away was downright stupid.