by J. D. Netto
In silence, Petra turned and walked to the kitchen.
“I will keep an eye on the door,” Xylia declared.
Never in my life had I felt such unbearable pain. My whole leg throbbed as a burning sensation stung my muscles.
“Can you remove your boot, Devin?” Ballard asked, his hand pressed against the wound.
I felt my back muscles constrict while I attempted to lean forward. The pain was excruciating. I cringed my teeth, taking a deep, long breath.
Ballard leaned his body, grasping the edge of my feet. I screamed as he pulled my boot from my leg.
Ballard frowned his forehead upon looking at the wound.
“Your flesh…is melting.” He bore his eyes into mine. “I thought only iron or the flames of a white dragon had the power to kill you.”
“Then I am assuming that creature had hands of iron.” I cringed, struggling for breath. “It burns.” I pressed the edges of my hands on my forehead.
“Do you know what you are doing, Ballard?” Isaac asked.
“My father is experienced with medicinal herbs. He taught me some things. The king of Mag Mell asked him to be the overseer of Valley Hills once he was informed of my father’s skills,” he responded, analyzing the wound. “We relocated to the village four years ago.”
Isaac shot me a veiled look, raising his right eyebrow.
“Have you heard from him since you left?” Isaac asked.
“No. My father is too occupied with his affairs. I understand him not sending me any news.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I miss him though.”
Isaac and I realized that Ballard was not yet aware of his father’s death. I shook my head, telling him not to divulge the news now.
My stomach turned when I saw the wound on my left ankle. My flesh throbbed as the wound festered.
Ballard raised both of his eyebrows. “It is spreading fast.” He turned his head to the kitchen. “Petra, did you find anything?” There was an impatient tone in his voice.
Ignoring his friend’s question, Petra walked out of the kitchen holding a gray bucket covered in rust. With his face turned to the floor, he walked through the doorway.
Ballard ripped the bottom of his shirt, tying the piece of cloth around my thigh. The mere feeling of the delicate cloth touching my skin burned like fire.
“This will help with the bleeding.” He wiped the sweat from his brow with his right wrist.
Petra rushed inside with his bucket overflowing with snow.
“Here,” he said, handing Ballard the bucket, then stepping away from us.
Ballard reached inside, grabbing a handful of snow. I let out a deafening scream.
“The wound needs to be cleaned, Devin.” The right side of his lips trembled as he rubbed the snow on my ankle. My teeth pressed both of my lips together as I held my screams.
“Should we melt the snow?” Isaac asked in an impatient tone.
Ballard shook his head in answer to his companion’s question. “There is no time.”
“After you clean…the wound, what will you do?” I asked under my breath.
Ballard ignored my question, his eyes fixed on my ankle. I felt my left arm begin to twitch. Was this the end of me?
“I will go search for wood. It will be dark soon,” Petra declared, walking outside once again.
Ballard reached inside his satchel, searching for something.
This pain was far worse than when the Whispering Lights had entered my head.
“I can’t move my arm,” I whispered the moment I realized I was losing feeling in my limbs. “I don’t think I will make it.”
“Ballard, what are you looking for?” Isaac asked with an edge to his voice.
“Here it is,” Ballard said, taking out a small glass vial filled with a black liquid. “This is essence of Green Lilly. They are flowers found on the shores of the River of Abstergo during the summer. This liquid relieves pain and helps the body fight any infection.”
Was this his brilliant plan? I was almost certain that this essence had never been tested on Nephilins. Could this really work?
“Hold him, Isaac,” Ballard ordered. “Devin,” his eyes met mine, “do not move.”
He opened the vial, pouring the dark liquid on my ankle. The liquid was cold when it touched my skin, but in a matter of seconds it burned like fire, increasing the pain. I could no longer contain my screams. I shouted at the top of my lungs. Sweat dripped down my forehead and hair, reaching my lips. Seconds later, the pain subsided as my leg grew numb. My left arm was also unresponsive.
My senses started to escape me. I battled against my eyelids, struggling to stay awake. The voices of my companions turned to muffled groans, and my vision dimmed as all sound faded. I closed my eyes.
XI
I was awakened by a cold breeze brushing against my face. My eyes caught sight of the small crack on the glass. I moved my left leg, expecting the pain I had been feeling to strike me again, but the pain I felt was bearable—almost forgettable. I rubbed my eyes with the edge of my hands, realizing I lay on the bed of the room where the creature had attacked me earlier. Beside me, on the ground, was a candle that was almost burning out, its dripping wax creating patterns on the floor.
I heard footsteps approaching. Petra walked into the room, holding a new candle. He was startled when he realized I was awake.
“I…um…I found this candle in the kitchen. I noticed yours was burning out.” He scratched the back of his head. He knelt next to the bed, holding the wick of the new candle atop the flame. He avoided looking at me.
“Where is everyone?” I asked, managing to sit. I rested my elbows on my knees.
He placed the new candle on the floor beside the burnt wax. “They are all downstairs, sitting around the fire.” He arose to his feet.
Anger still burned within me.
“Why did you leave us, Petra?” I asked in a low voice, trying to control my feelings.
He let out a frustrated sigh, turning his back to me. He lifted his head to the ceiling, cracking the knuckles on his fingers.
“A couple of months ago, me and two of my friends decided to go to the Great River for a weekend,” he started after a brief silence. “We mounted our horses, picked up our girls, and rode down the Road of Iron, excited for our little adventure.” He put his hands inside his pockets. “On our first day, we had a great time swimming, fishing, building our shelter out of tree branches and vines, and talking around the fire.” I noticed his eyes filling with tears as the words drifted from his mouth.
Where is he going with this? I thought as I listened.
“On the second day, I awoke to the sound of thunder and rain. Gray clouds had veiled the sun. Our shelter was undone by the fury of the wind and our horses had fled during the night. We were scared.” The tears started to roll down his cheeks. “I will never forget the bright, yellow eyes and the disfigured body that stood in the woods, gazing at us all. With a terrifying growl, the Shadow attacked my girl, Freeda. My two friends, along with their girls, fled toward the trees while I watched the grotesque creature devour the one I loved.” He sniffed, wiping his tears with the backs of his hands. “You know what I did once I saw my girl dead?” he asked with trembling lips.
“No.” I felt my throat closing as I stared at this boy, surprised at the story he shared.
“I ran away, like a coward,” he mumbled. “Two other Shadows appeared, chasing my friends. All I heard were their screams of torment as they were devoured. I left them to die. There was no courage in me to help them.” He bowed his head. “It took me hours to get to Swordsmouth. I ran through the woods, afraid that I was being followed. The torrential rain made my journey all the more difficult. The howling of the wind, and even the sound of branches breaking, startled me while my mind continued to remember the death of my friends.”
“How did you manage to get home?”
He tightened his eyebrows together. “I caught sight of the gates of Swordsmouth, saw the green flag with
the emblem of the silver helmet flapping as the wind continued to blow. Is my family safe? That was all I could think about once I saw my kingdom. I walked through the muddy gates, my heart racing inside my chest. The guards saw me. ‘Petra, are you alright?’ one of them shouted as they opened the iron gates. At that moment, I did not care about my well-being. I was concerned about those that I loved. I ran home, ignoring their questions. When I walked inside my house, all I found was a note sitting on the table next to a box with an iron lock and a symbol of a circle and two lines etched into the top.
“‘The Book of the Light Bearer is yours now.
Guard it with your heart and mind.
Love, Mom and Dad’
“I called out for them, hoping that they were still there, but my hope was shattered when I realized they had left.” His fingers tightened around his hand. “My parents abandoned me when I needed them most. I held that note in my hand and felt the world cave in around me as I looked at the mysterious box lying on top of the table.” His eyes met mine. “Maybe that’s why I abandoned you all when you needed me. Because that’s what I do. I abandon people. Apparently, it runs in the family.”
“A man is as a man thinks, Petra,” I declared, standing to my feet. “Let not your past dictate your present actions. Your parents might have left, but we, your companions, are still here.”
“It is not easy, Devin.” His shoulders drooped down. “It is not easy to have everything taken from you. My whole life changed in a matter of hours.”
I crossed my arms. “Do you think I cannot sympathize with the pain you are feeling? My father is a Fallen Star and my human mother was turned to Shadow when I was still an infant. I never had them beside me.” I clenched my fists, recalling the days when I’d felt abandoned and lost. “It might not be easy, but it is not impossible to overcome such pain.”
“Do you truly believe that?” Petra inquired, his eyes begging for an uplifting answer.
For a brief moment, I reflected on all the times I had allowed my past to influence my actions. A part of me was still unsure if helping the book-bearers would give me a chance at redemption from the evil that ran within me.
“Yes, I do,” I replied in a low voice, knowing that it was easier to answer his question than to believe in my own answer.
His lips curved into a shy smile. He looked around the room one more time, turned, and walked down the stairs in silence.
We are all flawed, I thought while Petra’s words ruminated in my mind. His fear was a reflection of his arduous past. To think that we had the five weapons that Lucifer’s army—and other creatures—were searching for struck me with fear for the first time. Pain constricted my heart as I remembered the day Adawnas had abandoned Isaac and me in the forest. How could she? After all the years we had lived together, she’d surrendered to her weakness, abandoning us all. Was she still alive? I found it hard to believe that she had sided with the Fallen Stars.
I descended the stairs; my stomach growled when I smelled the cooked meat. I was surprised to see all the book-bearers sitting by the fireplace, holding their skewers over the flames. To the left, near the door, were the remains of a young buck. I saw the young boy we had found earlier sitting next to Adara. He was wrapped in a ragged blanket, resting his head against her body. Demetre sat on Adara’s left. Xylia watched the flames, sitting next to Isaac. Petra had his arms and legs crossed as he reclined his body against the wall.
“Where did you find skewers?” I asked with a grin on my face.
Ballard’s shoulders moved as he let out a soft laugh.
“They were in the kitchen.” He twirled his skewer in the fire.
“And who fixed the door?” I walked down the last step of the stairway.
“I think the better question would be, ‘Who gutted the deer,’” Demetre said with a smile. “Come sit by the fire, Devin. You must be hungry.”
“Are you proud, Demetre?” Isaac asked with a laugh. “The deer did almost beat you.”
Ballard clicked his tongue. “The deer almost got away,” he said.
“You should all be grateful. It has been a while since we have had a decent meal,” Demetre boasted as they all broke out in laughter.
“What happened after I passed out?” I walked to the window, my eyes surveying our surroundings. There was no snow falling from the sky, no sign of an enemy nearby.
“Isaac and Demetre went out hunting while Ballard fixed the door. Xylia and I cared for the boy.” Adara turned her head, fixing her eyes on Petra. “And he did not leave your side until now.”
My eyes shifted to Petra. Apparently there was more to this boy than I had thought.
“Thank you,” I said.
“You are welcome,” he replied, clearing his throat as he approached the fire.
My gaze turned to Ballard. “Thank you for caring for my wounds.”
“No problem. I am sure you would have done the same for me.” He brought his skewer closer to his face, touching the meat in the hopes that it was fully cooked.
I watched them as they talked and ate. It was uncommon to find bravery amongst such young boys and girls. There was no choice for me now but to protect them. I had no other option but to believe that my sacrifice was going to be worth something.
I sat next to Xylia.
“Here.” She handed me one of the skewers with meat. Petra made himself comfortable beside me.
I felt the heat of the flames on my hands. From the corner of my right eye, I noticed the boy gazing at me with a fervent expression. For some reason, seeing this boy reminded me of the days when I roamed Elysium alone after my mother was transformed into Shadow. His innocent face reminded me of all the other infants that had been made orphans. Like headless insects, we ventured through the woods, not knowing what to do to survive. That was until Nephele and Azaziel found us as they went searching for our kind, hiding us beneath the grounds of the Kingdom of Byllith.
“Are you alright, boy?” I asked, giving the child a half-hearted smile.
With his thumb in his mouth and his eyes fixed on mine, he shrugged his shoulder and turned his face away from me.
“He is fine,” Adara replied, wrapping her right arm around the boy. “He is just traumatized. He did just lose his family.”
With a vacant expression, the child gazed at the fire.
“Are you sure he is alright?” I felt the creases appear on my forehead.
“Yes.” Her eyes narrowed. “He is fine, Devin.”
The child recoiled under her arm, holding his knees with his arms.
We were all quiet for a while. I enjoyed the warmth of the fire, the sound of the crackling flames, the smell and flavor of the meat.
“Do you think Ohmen, Folletti, and Valeree are still alive?” Isaac broke the silence, his elbows resting on his knees.
“I am not sure,” I answered, watching the flames dance inside the fireplace.
“What do you think, Isaac?” Xylia placed her skewer on the wall, wiping her fingers on her pants.
Isaac winced. “We have to believe that they are alive.”
“And what will we do once we inform them of the attack on Bellator?” Ballard asked.
“We continue to look for allies throughout Elysium. I am sure once we inform them of what happened, they will side with us on this quest,” Isaac answered.
“I do not want to be the pessimist here,” Ballard raised his eyebrows. “But who is to say that they have not sided with Lucifer already?”
Isaac rubbed his forehead with his fingers.
“We must take the risk,” he replied with a worried look while cracking his knuckles. For a moment, he gazed at the window behind him. I could tell he was deep in thought, probably thinking of the various outcomes this journey could have. Though I desired to trust him with all my heart, a part of me still questioned if there was something he was hiding. I still could not understand how he had been able to kill Nylora in Bellator.
“I wonder if there have been other att
acks.” Ballard cleared his throat. “I worry if Valley Hills is still safe.” His voice dwindled away.
Isaac shot me a daunting look. I knew at that moment that we were both thinking the same thing. Should we tell him about his father? Anatolio Radley was his father and the Overseer of Valley Hills, a village located near the River of Abstergo. I had not forgotten the moment when Isaac and I saw his father’s body being devoured by a Shadow.
“Ballard.” I dropped my shoulders. “There is something that Isaac and I must share with you.”
Ballard scowled, laying his skewer against the base of the fireplace.
Isaac scratched his chin, standing to his feet.
“Devin and I visited Valley Hills. We were heading to Mag Mell, hoping to find allies, when we stumbled across the village.”
Ballard leaped up.
“Did you see my father?” he asked with wide eyes. “You probably met him. Why did you not tell me that you visited my village?”
Isaac approached him, kneeling at his side.
“Your village is gone, Ballard.” He laid his hand on his shoulder. “They were all attacked by an army of Shadows.”
Ballard shook his head in disbelief. Creases appeared between his brows.
“Gone?” he mumbled through short breaths. “And my father?” His lips quivered, already expecting the worse.
A cold shiver went down my spine as the images of the attack continued to flash in my mind.
“He died,” Isaac replied. “When we arrived, your father had already been killed.”
Fear and sorrow settled in the room. They were all quiet, listening. In their minds, they probably wondered if those that they loved were still alive.
Ballard grunted, punching the wooden floor with such force that blood splattered on his clothes.
Isaac tried to hold him as he continued to strike the floor with his right hand. With great strength, Ballard arose to his feet and pushed Isaac against the wall. With tears streaming down his face, and with both of his hands pressed against his head, he marched his way up the stairs. I heard the sound of a door banging. I glanced up and saw that Ballard had gone inside one of the rooms.
