A Crimson Tale

by K. L. O Johnson

  “Don’t worry Padmay; my sister just needs to warm up to people before she feels comfortable with them.”

  “I understand. Please, follow me.” she says and turns her back; her hands are cupped behind her as she walks past the woman and the boy who stares at me with wide eyes. I turn from them and focus on the light brown dirt path that winds through the small cluster of homes, from what I can see there are three main sections, with seven small cottages in each, some of which have fires going as the smell of ash and burnt wood greets my nose. “What are you doing here?” asks Padmay as she continues to lead us.

  “I was trying to escape.” I say and she stops. The white bandanna on her head hides the black-gray thick bun on her head and she quirks a brow and her lips are pulled into a thin line. What’s up with her?

  “Looks like you’ve succeeded.” I glance at Galataia and she nods.

  ‘Does she know?’ I ask her.

  ‘No.’ Padmay beings to walk on ahead and we follow after.

  Several men and women peer at me as we glide along what appears to be a dirt-road. Everyone continues to gaze at me and they continue to do so—I pay them no mind but I’m really getting sick of it! I don’t ask to be the center of attention yet I seem to always be. Father was right I would be gaining a lot of attention because of my looks.

  They can stop staring. I think my sister seems to have ignored that. I know her silence means she’s enjoying this—surely they have seen a female Knight. I really hate being the center of attention!

  “Here we are!” declares Padmay.

  I pull my gaze from the people around us and glance at the small cottage before us. I tilt my head to the side—trying to figure out what is so great about the cottage until I notice Galataia and Stephan enter the small cottage and I look at Padmay. She gestures for me to enter and I follow after the couple, wandering along the small steppingstones with a little natural green garden.

  Just like the others there are no fences.

  19:Death Defining

  © 2014—All rights reserved by author

  I enter a small cottage, it’s well furnished with wooden tables and chairs, the floorboards creek under my footsteps and a fire place is tended to by a woman who dusts her hands on her apron, a bandanna wrapped around her head and she bows her head a me before standing and leaving. My eyes lingered on her form until she was out of sight before they drifted to my sister. “So is this where you live?” I ask. She nods. “It’s…different.” It is odd seeing my sister, someone who has lived a very well-furnished lifestyle, to fall to something like this. I guess when you’re lost to your family or divided from your family—you’re practically on your own.

  My heart aches for her.

  She must have been scared and all alone. Normally, I was always there to calm her and quell her of her pain and her fears but when I wasn’t, who was? That’s when Stephan moves to Galataia he plants a kiss on her cheek before moving to the kitchen. Let me guess…he lives here too. With her! Something boiled inside of me and Galataia turns towards me with a disapproving look. I think she may have noticed something but I can’t help but feel something within me rise. I realize than I’m growling—I’m growling like an animal—like a dragon. She sighs and moves over to me. “Kal…” she begins. She looks like she already knows what to say but can’t face me.

  Don’t hold back for my sake! I prefer you to be straight forward! ”Don’t tell me…he lives here with you!” I growl and I notice Stephan looking at me with worry as he cleans the last of the cups and places it beside the sink or what appears to be the sink. He places the towel on a wire by the window to dry and he picks up a large wooden tub of water before making his way to some other part of the house.

  “He does.” I growl, wanting to rip out his throat.

  “Why a man? There’s plenty of other women I’ve seen. Why couldn’t you live with them or one of them live with you?”

  She places her hands on her hips.

  “I’m a full grown woman. I can take care of myself and I chose to live with him!” I stare at her words. My mind continues to reel with the information it has been given. I turn my gaze away from my sister’s intense gaze. “There’s a spare room at the end of the hall,” she says. “make yourself comfortable, you may be here for a while.” Her voice is barely a whisper and I freeze. I’ll be here for a while. That can’t be right?

  Varden, Altair, Dante!

  “I can’t stay. I need to get back!” I say and attempt to move to the door but my sister manages to slip in between me and my only exit or so I think, there may be an uncharted backdoor I’m unaware of.

  “You can’t return!”

  “Then why did you save me, if you knew I couldn’t!” I snap. Her face drops. I realize than what I said.

  “Because…you’re my sister and I love you. That should be enough.” she whispers and I hold my breath. I don’t know how long has past but by the time I pull myself from my thoughts my sister has gone and I expel the breath I held.

  “Well done Kalverya, well done…” I scold myself and force open the door, I leave. I knew whenever we had fights like this she wouldn’t talk to me for hours until I’ve calmed down or until she has but I think we may need more time apart. So I figured to find a way to get back. The others need me and I can’t just abandon them. Also, how much time has passed? I just pray they’re going ahead with the plan and not holding up—waiting for me. No, they wouldn’t! I think. They know better, they know what’s at stake and they know Varden is in danger. They’ll protect him.

  A distant clattering makes its way to my ears and the sound of a cry. I sprint towards the noise.

  Pushing past leaves and gliding along rooftops and thick branches and manage to make my way to the noise and see the little boy on the ground. A large bear stands on its hind legs and appears to force its thick paws down on the boy. I’m quick and grab the boy sliding along the clearing as the bear brings down its paws barely missing us. With the boy in my arms I stand and place him on the ground. I push him behind me where the bear turns to face us—I realize than it’s not like the bears on Nephelia or on Earth but has brown thin tentacles extending from its muzzle. “Stay back.” I say over my shoulder and the kid nods.

  The bear moves to charge at us and I brace myself. A green shield is brought up before us and I know that I had nothing to do with that. I glance at the opposite end of the clearing and see Galataia with her hands glowing green before her. Her eyes glow green as she appears to be concentrating on keeping up the shield. The bear turns to her and Stephan is before her with a scabbard of his own. “Kal. Get the boy out of here,” orders Galataia.

  “What about you?” I ask. She smiles at me.

  “We’ll be fine. Get him home. Genevieve will be worried sick.” I nod and scoop the child in my arms and race along the canopy back to the small village. I land on the clearing and Genevieve runs towards us with wide arms and the boy pulls from me and runs to her, tears slide down his face as his mother attempts to calm him. I glance back at where I just entered from and make my way back to Galataia and Stephan.

  My limbs begin to ache and I’m held into place by something. I look down and there attached to my limbs are thin wires, there are teeth-like claws embedded into my scales. Everything than becomes black. “I have you now…” I hear it whispers, why does it sound familiar? Whose voice is that? A deep barbaric laugh pulls through my mind. “I’ll devour you whole.” Vedric!

  Pain radiates throughout my limbs and I force my eyes open, my vision is hazy and a crack of pain burns through my side and I tumble over as breath slips from my lungs. Vedric has transformed from his dragon form to his humanoid form, I glance through the haze barely but I know it’s him, it’s the sound of his voice, the way he walks, the way he talks it’s all there. I move to stand on my feet.

  A sharp pain, knocks my head to the side. His boot with buckles draws blood at my lips. “I don’t think so…” A high pitched zing rings around us and I peer at the pu
ddle near my face, blood pours down my lips and there I see Vedric, his blade glows under the synthetic sun and brings it down—the pain purges through my shoulder before everything goes hazy once more before fading to darkness.

  *.*.*

  There I lay, unmoving, unnerving…watching at the face I’m fated to face. Bleak in this haziness it disappears and I see a warm light shining down on me, replacing what I saw before and I hear a voice. “Kal! Kal!” It calls. I can’t find where it’s from. I want to turn to it but I can’t, I want to find out how I got here but I can’t remember. My head just feels numb and the firmness in which I rest upon is giving way. “Kal!” The voice is female. What would they want? I want to tell them to go away, I’m tired and I want to rest. Just five minutes—I’m tired and all I want to do is rest. Yet I’m not given that right—that desire. Why? “Kal!”

  I slowly pull my eyes open.

  I’m desperate for air and I feel my body convulse—it’s like a blur and I find myself leaning over the banks’ edge. How did I get here? I want to ask but I’m too busy coughing up water which soothingly burns my throat. How did it get in my system and how did I have so much? This reminds me of something—but what? Images of a battle on a frozen land with a demon forms in my mind, I fall into the ground and freeze. Then I wake up to a fire. “She’s alive!” A voice exclaims. I feel people around me and search.

  The light is blinding and I barely make out the lining of heads above me. One becomes familiar to me, “Taia?” I begin and she shushes me, tears stream down her face and I realize now I’m resting on her lap, my head securely positioned as she begins to shake. I hear her gasping for breath but I can’t move, I want to get up and get away from the people above me but I can’t—my body is unresponsive. Do I have nerve damage? Has something happened? Why is everyone on the verge of tears and smiles?

  I fall back into darkness…

  *.*.*

  My hand fumbles through the wool at my fingertips, I feel heat radiate around me, I urge towards it and my eyes snap open. I’m alone…staring at the high wooden stilt ceiling above me as if nothing has never happened or as if nothing ever will happen. The beams are lines of what appears to be a hexagon, the beams stationed as both the edges and the corners. I pull my gaze from the ceiling and glance around the room. I find Altair in a chair guarding me and Dante down at my feet while Varden lays his head on the edge of my bed.

  What happened? I think.

  “You’re awake.” I turn to the voice and see Lifet standing at the far end of the room, Altair, Dante and Varden all jerk away at his voice. His eyes are dark under the fiery lanterns and I feel as though I’m forgetting something. What could it be?

  “Where am I?” I mutter.

  “Kalverya. Are you all right?” I hear Varden ask, desperately.

  “How did I get here?” Altair and Dante exchange a worried look. Lifet walks over. “What about the vault and the plan?” I ask, frantically.

  “The plan has occurred and we’ve gathered the information you asked for.”

  “So what are you all doing here?” I ask and try to move but feel pain stab at my side and Altair forces me back down.

  “Don’t move!” I hear Varden scold. Why shouldn’t I move? Is something wrong? “You’ll reopen your wound.” I stare at him baffled. Wound? What wound? What is he talking about?

  In this fleeting sense of confusion, I can’t seem to find this gnawing sensation within me—instead, I’m lost like a captivity—grown animal that has been released into the wild. Right now, not even my sense of direction has been untouched. “Are you thirsty?” asks Varden, I can’t find any words to answer his question. Instead, I absently nod, slowly and groggily.

  He pours water from a large wooden jug into a small wooden mug and helps me sit, normally I would fight such help but my mind and limbs seem foreign to me. “Here…this should help.” I accept the liquid and I’m engrossed—by the cool buzz within me. I wasn’t too sure if I’m dehydrated or not but probably am. I try to recall what happen and how I managed to leave the vault—my mind fights back and my head begins to hurt.

  “How long have I been asleep?” All their expressions are hard and stare back at me impassively. “What?” I ask, their eyes—their expression—is unnerving.

  “Kalverya…” begins Dante, he ever rarely says my full name and whenever he does-it’s never good. “You were in a coma for two full weeks.”

  He lies!

  “What…? No! I remember…” My headaches and I stop.

  “You were in a coma!” growls Altair—he’s never yelled at me like that before—ever. I’m too shocked to speak, I’m too shocked by his anger-filled expression and by the tension his body displays to retort. “Of course you wouldn’t remember! You had severe head trauma! You were lying all alone…you could have died!” The anger in his voice is there and he doesn’t try and hide it neither the expression nor the bitterness.

  He moves from his seat by my bed and turns his back on me.

  “You’re to stay here.” He’s giving me orders?

  “But…” I begin.

  “No exceptions…your body is in a symbiosis state. You need time to regenerate your power. Until than you are not to leave this room, under any circumstances.” He quits the room, Dante and Lifet follow soon after and I’m left alone with Varden.

  “That’s a new look for you…I almost didn’t recognize you.” I stare at him. New look? I look different from before! He stands and leaves me alone to my thoughts in silence shortly after. I stare at the white sheet that wraps around my body, the clothes I’m in…No longer my scales or my uniform…I’m in a white and steel lined gown. My scales are no longer black but are white and are under my gown. My power? Is it true what the frost dragon had said, my powers aren’t gone but were lost? If that’s the case have I found them? I try to move from my bed and pain zips through me. I pant, my arms become numb and tingly. Do I have nerve damage?

  The most likely and possible explanation for my pain comes to mind and oddly I don’t fear not being able to walk, I don’t fear not being able to fight. Instead, it’s a relief, in a way I’m not surprised. I lost my desire to live a long time ago and this is just the aftermath—the left over explanation for my mental downfall. I thought a long time ago that I’m no longer depressed or unhappy but to a degree I am and still remain as such; I’m traumatized and I have been from a young age, this pain is me. This life I lead and this condition I am is me. I can’t change that nor do I want to because at the end of the day I know I have a lot more than some people.

  I know that I can live to see another day not because I want to but because I have to.

  Knowing that trying to move my body causes so much pain—I try to relax my muscles which seem to be very difficult to do. My muscles have tensed up from the pain and I’m concluding I have a form of nerve damage and the concussion I don’t think I should have now is probably a result of whatever had happened to me. I know I was in the Vault, I remember trying to collect information because something wasn’t right and then…Blank. Nothing seemed to have made sense. Bit by bit, I move my fingertips slowly, the pain was excruciating at first but over time as I began to work my way from the tips of my hands up to my forearm, my arms were more responsive but felt heavy.

  My limbs slowly ceased to ache the more I moved them but when I didn’t or rested for a short amount of time, they’ll ache and the pain ten-times what it was initially. By the time I manage to have the limbs moving and responding, I forced my body towards the edge of the bed. My thighs, abdomen, back, shoulders and above all my head aches. My feet manage to touch the cold stone floors and the sheets tumbled down at my feet. At the rate I’m going I really did look my age, minus, the youthfulness of my features.

  I force myself to stand and my body collapses on the hard ground. I gasp in pain and my lungs begin to burn. Why can’t I move? Why can’t I stand? Why does it hurt? I hear strongly frantic footsteps and my door swings open and there stands both Dante a
nd Altair. The two rush over to me and help me into bed. “I told you to stay put!” growls Altair.

  I don’t take notice of his words.

  “Why does it hurt?” I ask.

  There’s silence. I repeat.

  “Why does it hurt?” I don’t know how much time has gone by with a tension filled silence but I know whatever their answer is it isn’t good. Instead, I ask the worst—something which I don’t want to know—though it’s something I desperately need to know. “What happened to me?” Altair stands and closes the door, Dante places his arms around me and begins to whisper in my ears what the medics determined happen but Nerelda fully examined my body and the worst has happened, I was beaten, stabbed and left to die. “Who did this?” The virulence in my voice couldn’t be missed. I knew it.

  “Vedric,” whispers Dante and I vowed than when I found him, I’ll torcher him slowly before he died or maybe I would keep him alive long enough to have him eaten internally. “We can send you home…you can have help.” Dante offers. Home, what is home? Then I’m a warrior, I know the consequences of lifting a sword and walking head on into a battle. I know the cost of not just the value of my life but my pride and respect all of which I lost a long time ago.

  “No.”

  There’s silence.

  “Are you sure?” he asks.

  “Positive. I still have a duty to do and if you think some bastard is going to stop me think again. I’ve been in worse shape and he hasn’t taken anything that someone else has already taken before. I’ll be fine.” I hold his gaze and his face is tense. “I don’t always need you to protect me…the fact that this is a war means there will be consequences, means that there will be loss and bloodshed. I’m not some princess for you to protect.”

  “But you are a princess! But Our princess!” A title I left behind the moment my sister died. She was the rightful heir not me—no matter what they say. “You should go home to the queen, you should go home to your grandmother.” I shake my head.