Rebellion

by J. D. Netto

  “Quiet, both of you!” Petra shouted in a breaking voice.

  An uncontrollable anger slithered its way through me. Like a snake that wraps itself around its prey, I felt my patience being crushed by Xylia’s remarks.

  Once again, everything around me disappeared. I was surrounded by darkness. My eyes could only see one thing—Xylia. Is it happening again? I thought.

  As I looked at her, I saw that her eyes were as black as the night, and blood ran down her cheeks like tears. Her skeletal body was covered in rags. Wisps of hair sat on her head.

  An uncontrollable hatred fueled me. I wanted to kill her. How dare she presume to tell me what I had to do? Maybe she thought she was better than all of us.

  I can’t do this, I thought, surprised at my current desires. How can I be willing to kill her? What was this will that was now finding its place in my heart? She was my companion. How dare I desire to take her life?

  Moments later, the scene before me vanished. I was back in the valley.

  What is happening to me? The question lingered in my mind as I watched Ballard.

  “He is gone.” A shiver went down my spine when I heard Devin utter these words.

  “What do you mean, ‘gone?’” Adara pushed Devin to the side, her hands grasping Ballard’s shoulders. “Ballard?” she asked as her voice turned to sobs.

  “No, no, no…” Petra’s voice faded as he lowered his head.

  My eyes swam in tears. I stared in disbelief at Ballard’s frozen body. Like a sword that sinks inside an enemy’s body, the cries of my companions penetrated my ears.

  I shot Devin a morbid look. He sat still in the snow with arms crossed over his knees. With a vague expression, he gazed at Ballard.

  Demetre leaned over Ballard’s body and grabbed his hand. He shivered at the touch. He was silent as the tears rolled down his red cheeks.

  Xylia rested her head on Ballard’s chest as her right hand caressed his frozen hair. “I need to hear your heart beat again, Ballard,” she begged with a breaking voice. “Please, do not leave us.”

  Sadness drowned all other sounds around me.

  “We must move on,” Devin affirmed as he stood to his feet, wiping away his tears.

  Xylia turned her gaze to his.

  “Move on?” She furrowed her brows. “One of our companions just died.”

  “And we will die with him if we do not continue to move toward the Road of Ahnor,” he contested. “Those men, and the blood-drinkers, are still after us.”

  “Give us a moment to mourn,” Demetre requested.

  “Our mourning may cost us our lives. We are being hunted—all of us. We must leave this valley.” Devin raised his voice.

  I turned my back on all of them, venturing into the woods. There was a desire in me for solitude and silence. I shuddered as I recalled the image of Ballard clinging to the side of that cliff when I’d left him to meet his demise. My knuckles struck a dry tree trunk. I let out a shout, kneeling down; my bleeding hand rested on my thighs.

  “Where are you?” I mumbled through shallow breaths, struggling to contain my urge to cry. “Where is the winged lion that breathed life back into me?” My hands tightened. “Amidst the chaos, the task you have appointed to us seems too burdensome to carry. I know humanity chose to fall away from righteousness, but can those who have chosen to fight for you not find mercy?”

  I reached inside my satchel, touching one of the objects responsible for all this chaos. I wanted to toss the Diary in the raging ocean and let it sink to the bottom. In my heart, I desired to be the young boy who knew nothing of Lucifer or Fallen Stars right now.

  “Despite all the pain and the loss, this task is greater than any of our needs and desires.” I looked over my shoulder and saw Demetre approaching me. “There can be no victory without peril, no life without death, no strength without pain.”

  “Do you think we will live to see our victory?” I managed to stand back on my feet.

  He lifted his eyes to the sky. “Do you remember the Song of Brave Heroes?”

  “Of course.” My eyes narrowed. “Your dad sang it to us whenever we went fishing.” My chin quivered while the memories of those days flooded my mind.

  “Brave heroes of the west.

  Glorious in conquest and victory.

  Brave ones who knew fear, yet overcame the enemy.

  Brave heroes of the west.

  Darkness was not your worst enemy.

  Fear found room amongst ye

  Yet through the darkness, thy light appeared.”

  “The songs of glory and triumph forget to mention the trials and struggles those heroes had to endure in order to achieve their victory,” said Demetre in a low voice.

  I bowed my head. Would there be songs about us? Would we live to see the days when the gray clouds that hovered in the sky would no longer cover Elysium? Would we once again be able to return to Agalmath and see the fields ready for harvest?

  “Hopefully, when they write songs about our journey, they will not forget to add verses that mention our trials,” I murmured.

  I felt his hand reach for my shoulder.

  “You see, Isaac.” He managed to smile. “Our songs will speak of our struggles and battles because we will be the ones to write them.” His tearful eyes met mine. “Never doubt for a second that we will live to see our victory, my friend.”

  Demetre wrapped his arms around me.

  “You are not alone, my friend,” he said. Though hope was a foreign feeling at the moment, I had to believe that better days were yet to come.

  IX

  In silence, we made our way back to our companions. The frigid wind brushed against my cheeks, sending shivers throughout my body.

  I was startled by the sound of crackling branches and twigs coming from my left.

  “Did you hear that?” Demetre’s eyes turned, surveying our surroundings as he quickened his pace.

  It was not long until we found our companions. Petra had his eyes fixed in the direction the sounds were coming from. Devin had his sword in hand, ready for an immediate attack.

  “Whatever that is, it is heading this way,” I heard Adara’s high-pitched voice say.

  I unsheathed my sword. The faint cries of the rabid citizens of Bellator could still be heard from where we stood.

  My heart skipped a beat as the sound of an agonizing shout rose from the woods.

  “Help!” a broken male voice yelled. “Please, help me!”

  “We are coming!” Adara cried, running to the woods. She halted once she realized none of us followed her.

  “Will you do nothing?” Her eyes looked at each one of our faces.

  “What if it’s a trap?” Petra asked.

  Adara let out a quick breath, marching in the direction of the voice.

  “Stop,” Devin ordered, grabbing ahold of Adara’s right arm.

  “We must help him,” she insisted, struggling to get free from Devin’s grasp.

  “Please,” the stranger continued. “Help me!”

  “Let me go, Devin,” she requested, her left hand battling against Devin’s hold.

  “Listen—”

  My jaw dropped when I saw Adara’s fragile hand encounter Devin’s face. A brief silence lingered.

  “I do not care how dangerous our journey may be. I will not lose my humanity and compassion,” she said, her eyes brimming with tears. She turned her back to all of us and ran to the stranger.

  “Wait!” Demetre shouted, running after Adara.

  We were all desperate. Ballard’s death was a vivid sign of how fragile we all were. Powers and abilities amounted to nothing when compared to the growing darkness.

  “What if he is one of them?” Xylia asked, walking in my direction. “What if he is a blood-drinker in disguise?”

  “That is a chance we will all have to take now,” Petra said with a worried look.

  After a couple of minutes, I heard their footsteps approaching.

  Devin sheathed his sword
, crossing his arms.

  “If he is one of the blood-drinkers, Adara and Demetre will deal with him.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I care not.”

  They emerged from the woods. The man rested his arms on Adara and Demetre’s shoulders. He seemed to be in his mid-forties. His dark skin enhanced the color of his tired hazel eyes. His bald scalp was covered in bleeding wounds.

  The man struggled to move his legs. He let out painful moans every time the soles of his feet touched the ground. I watched as he tripped on a rock that was covered by snow. His body thudded to the ground.

  I rushed to the man’s aid. I looked back and was surprised to see Devin walking into the woods. His face was shrouded with rage.

  “Devin,” I mumbled, watching him disappear.

  “I have seen better days.” The man spoke in a hoarse voice.

  “Save your strength,” said Petra.

  Demetre and Adara knelt next to the weak man.

  “Thank you for coming to my rescue, my dear.” With great struggle, he reached for Adara’s cheeks, touching them with his fingertips. “Your bravery will surely change the fate of many.”

  The wounded man cringed, gritting his teeth. I noticed that there was a flow of blood coming from beneath his right hand, which was pressed against the left side of his waist.

  “They attacked my family.” He squinted his eyes. “My son and daughter…murdered in front of me.”

  “You will make it through this,” I affirmed, trying not to show the whirlwind of emotions that stirred inside of me.

  “They murdered the king.” His breathing grew ragged. “King Demyon did not stand a chance against them.”

  “Mu-murdered?” Xylia inquired. She lowered her head and her shoulders drooped. I did not need my abilities to know what was in her mind. She wanted to know if Nathan and Sathees were safe. I was not sure if I could withstand the loss of so many in such a short time.

  “Dead,” I mumbled to myself.

  With chattering teeth, the man closed his eyes.

  “What is your name?” Demetre asked.

  “That does not matter,” he answered with a discontent smile. “If I tell you who I am today, you will not know me for who I will be tomorrow.”

  We all shared a confused look.

  I heard footsteps coming from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Devin making his way in our direction.

  “Doubt not that your choices will lead you down perilous roads,” the man said with his gaze set on Ballard’s body. “The boy sleeps.”

  I jumped back, surprised at his remark. Xylia scowled at the man.

  “Sleeps?” Adara darted her finger toward Ballard. “He is dead. Do you not see it?”

  “Your friend…sleeps,” he repeated.

  “Stop saying that,” Xylia shrieked through clenched teeth. “He is dead.” Her lips trembled.

  A smile pursed the man’s rigid lips. I laid my hands on him and felt the temperature of his body dropping at a rapid pace. His chest stopped moving. His eyes rolled back in his head, hiding underneath their lids.

  Demetre laid his head against the man’s chest, trying to listen to his heartbeat. Low sobs and sniffles echoed around me as we all realized that the man had indeed passed away.

  “I believe we should get used to losing everyone around us,” Xylia said in a bitter tone.

  “We should just give them the books,” Adara said, standing to her feet. “That way, maybe our loved ones will be spared.”

  “Spared?” I frowned in disbelief at what she had said.

  “Do not say such things, Adara.” Demetre darted her a furious stare.

  “Why not?” Adara snapped. “Look at this man.” She pointed to the lifeless body. “What do you think will happen to him now? Do you believe he will find eternal rest?”

  In our hearts, we all knew he could not cross over to Tristar or the Abyss. I turned my face away from the scene, trying to avoid setting eyes on the man’s dead body.

  “I do not believe any man or woman has yet crossed over to Tristar,” she affirmed in a strong tone.

  My mind recalled the moment when Death took me down that door in the Prison of Despair and I saw the multitude of people that rested beneath the scarlet sky in the Wastelands. While the Fallen Stars in the form of Shadows controlled their souls, their spirits remained asleep, unable to cross over.

  “Thus the reason we cannot surrender to them,” Petra retorted, marching in her direction. “Ever since the Council began guarding the Diary, the souls of men have never found rest. We must be the ones to bring the truth to light so the dead can never come back again.”

  “We should not be the ones to go to war for the mistakes of the past.” Adara closed her hands.

  “Why do you say this, Adara?” We were all startled by the strong, unfamiliar voice that spoke. “Will trials have the power to change your decisions?”

  A soft breeze caused the snow to lift from the ground. It danced in a circular motion, creating a tall curtain of white. I saw that the snow took the form of a well-built man. Bright golden eyes appeared below ashen hair that cascaded down his shoulders. For a while, I could not believe my eyes. Wings appeared. This time, the being had not only one but two pairs of wings emerge from his back.

  “Who are you?” Devin asked, raising his eyebrows.

  The being gave him a smile.

  “I am Leethan, one of the Higher Stars from Tristar,” he replied, his body still hidden by the curtain of snow.

  “You were the one that retrieved the Diary from the Abyss,” I said, recalling the day Devin shared the tale with me.

  “And you are now its bearer,” he affirmed as the curtain of snow receded, revealing silver armor covering his body. Three spikes protruded from both gauntlets. Etched on his breastplate was the emblem of the six-winged lion.

  “Yes, I am.” I was mesmerized at the sight of him.

  “And here are the other book-bearers.” His golden eyes analyzed every single one of us. “It is a pleasure to meet you all…in person.” He bowed his head.

  It was hard to miss the long, thin sword that was attached to his waist. Devin held his head steady, not showing any emotion to the Higher Star.

  “What brings you here, Star?” Devin asked.

  “I see one of your companions is dead.” He tilted his head in the direction of Ballard’s body. “I have come to bring him back to life.”

  “Bring him back?” My jaw dropped.

  “He has been dead for quite some time. I do not believe his body can live again,” Adara stated, wringing her hands together.

  Leethan lifted his head toward the sky, watching the snow that fell.

  “Can you answer one question for me, Adara?” Leethan turned his gaze to Adara. “Do you believe it is impossible for you to stay alive until this war is over?”

  With calm steps, he made his way to Ballard.

  Adara’s throat closed. She bit her bottom lip, turning her eyes from Leethan’s firm gaze.

  “No,” she replied after a brief silence. “I do not believe it is impossible.”

  Leethan knelt beside Ballard, grasping his hand.

  “Then why do you think it is impossible for this boy to live again?”

  Ballard gasped for air as he opened his eyes. His skin returned to its fair complexion, his green eyes shone bright.

  “Ballard!” Adara shouted. We all rushed our way to him. There was a labored heaving of his chest; his eyes had a vacant stare.

  Wrinkles appeared on Devin’s forehead while he watched us.

  “How do you feel?” Demetre asked, his right hand gently shaking Ballard’s shoulder.

  “I am well,” he replied with a dry voice. “Where is my satchel?” He narrowed his eyes.

  “Here,” Devin answered, lifting up the ragged object.

  Ballard released a breath of relief, running his fingers through his chestnut hair. He gazed at his satchel for a while.

  Leethan had a soft smile stamped on his fac
e.

  “Why did you doubt, Adara?” he asked in a soft voice. “Would the Creator send me to you in vain?”

  Her iridescent eyes were set on him.

  “Doubt is not as burdensome as belief.” She bit her top lip, setting her eyes on Ballard.

  “The easiest road will not always be the safest way, Adara.” Leethan rested his hand on her shoulder.

  She shook her head, trailing her fingers across her lips. “Those are just empty words.” Wrinkles appeared on her forehead. “Would you like to know why believing is so hard for me?”

  We all fell silent.

  “My parents served King Marco in Aloisio. My father was the king’s right hand, aiding him in important decisions concerning the kingdom. When my father discovered that King Marco had fallen, he informed my mother. That evening, the king’s soldiers barged inside my home, raped my mother, and hung my father in our living room.” Adara leaned her body forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “One of the soldiers held my head up, ensuring that I watched every single moment. You ask why I doubted?” She lifted her eyes to Leethan. “I do not care if you are a Higher Star or if you serve the Creator. All I know is that I watched my parents die and no intervention came from the Creator when I needed him the most.”

  “Do you know why they died, Adara?” Leethan’s voice deepened.

  She rubbed the back of her hand against her nose. “Because they knew the truth,” she said in a broken voice.

  “No.” A soft smile curved his lips. “They died protecting the truth. War brings loss and pain to many.” He placed his hand beneath her chin, sinking his golden eyes into hers. “A real warrior will know the moment that he has to lay down his life for those that he loves.”

  “They never laid down their lives, Leethan. They were murdered. I presume you don’t know what it means to have those you love taken from you,” Adara said in a cold voice.

  A storm of emotions raged inside of me. A part of me rejoiced with Ballard’s life, while another focused on Leethan and Adara, wondering where this argument was going to lead.

  “Have you forgotten that many of us fell with Lucifer long ago? Do you not think that, deep in my heart, I miss them? Can you image the pain of being separated forever?” Leethan asked Adara as her eyes fidgeted. “You have been alive for eighteen human years, whereas I have been roaming Tristar and Elysium for ages. Your parents perished for a greater cause while my companions destroyed themselves because of pride and an unquenchable thirst for power.”