by Sulin Young
Mikin looked at the date.S2 10U1500 Lep.18. TheS2stood for Sector Two time region and10Ureferred to the ten worlds of UWIB, therefore referring to the time of UWIB’s union. The1500 following it indicated fifteen hundred years after UWIB’s union and Lep. stood for the planet Lepiturn, and also the thirteenth month in Sector Two’s calendar. There were fifteen months in a year in Sector Two. Finally, the18 referred to the eighteenth day of that month.
Mikin started to read. As usual, he wondered why this paragraph began out of nowhere — it seemed like Flimus himself had grabbed the thought out of thin air and jotted it down on paper.
“… upon Aran’s discovery of the infant’s location, a sense of foreboding descended upon me and suddenly I feared for our lives. For if Aran knew, then most likely did the Valpuri. What we would find in Arakam, the birth place of Dartkala’s new child, we possessed no inkling. We were gripped by both fear and excitement. What would the infant look like? Would it have a shape or would it be pure energy?
Despite our excitement, I feared what we would encounter. We had already run into the lesser creatures of the Valpuri world and fighting them had not been easy. Megan and I had come close to death several times. How they even came to be here after the War troubled us but not as much as the knowledge that another kind of Valpuri had appeared. Aran had come to believe that something extremely powerful from the Valpuri world had arrived and that it, too, was searching for Dartkala’s child. For what reason we knew not, but it certainly was not a good sign.
We made haste to Arakam, tracing the infant to a cruise vessel out at sea, but we were too late. An unnatural fire had consumed the ship and we could only watch as the last of the blackened remains sunk beneath the ocean. Not a single person had been left alive. The smell of burnt flesh lingered in the air. This was no ordinary Valpuri we were facing, but a demon monster.
Megan and I did our best to dissuade Aran from the chase, realising we were out of our depths. But Aran would not be Aran had he listened. As usual, his stubbornness gained the better of him and he gave chase. The demon monster had left a blazing trail.
We caught up with it eventually, high on the church tops of Sinkle, a quaint little town by the sea. Megan and I lagged behind Aran, our abilities nowhere as adapt as his. Drawn by the sound of clashing swords, we spotted the demon monster on the bell tower for the first time. Bigger in stature than a Pophusian, it reeked of immeasurable strength. We feared for Aran’s life. The demon carried a tiny bundle in its left arm that we believed to be the child. However, we were too far away to determine its exact race.
The demon monster tired of Aran’s attacks and took flight, heading out to sea with the infant still cradled in its arm. Aran gave chase, and Megan and I followed. What happened next will forever be burned in my memory.
Before our eyes, Aran and the demon monster had somehow fused. Their bodies, including the infant’s, had become one, and seeing them like that, I knew it was the end for them. Megan had been injured while trying to help Aran retrieve the infant, and had it not been for my medical intervention, she would have died. I could not go to Aran’s aid and neither would he allow me. I had seen that look before and I knew that Aran meant to die with the monster. If he could not defeat it nor save the child, then it was his duty to die with them. Between the demon monster and Aran, I knew not who initiated the killing hand. I could only watch as Aran, the demon monster, and the infant were consumed in a white hot flame. When Megan finally came to, she described something about the demon monster which to this day has puzzled me. The demon monster wore a simple necklace around its neck. A pendant in the shape of a teardrop. Skra’s pendant …”
The page ended and Mikin sighed in frustration. “Cube, initiate search on information directly related to this piece of writing.”
“Search initiated. Search completed. Two items found.”
“Reveal.”
An image appeared, spinning slowly before him. Two hastily written words hovered beneath it. Mikin drew in a sharp breath when he realised he had seen it before. “Cube, what is the description inscribed beneath?”
“Deciphering. The words below the image are — Skra’s pendant.”
Mikin couldn’t believe it — he had seen the same pendant on Terrana. In fact, she never went anywhere without the dark teardrop pearl, he had even seen her wearing it during Kampu training. Why did she have it? How?
His head ached from all the possibilities, the most obvious being that she was perhaps the child mentioned in Flimus’s journal.
“Cube, reveal the second item.”
A photograph of three people standing side by side, smiling for the camera, appeared. He had seen this picture several times before, but until now, he had never connected it with the content he had just read from the journal. Two men and one woman; they looked to be best friends.
A white building filled the background and he could make out a neatly tended lawn with a sculpture protruding into the side of the photo. On the left was a spectacled man with shaggy ginger hair. He was thin and pale, and it was obvious that he spent most of his time reading indoors instead of training outside. His fingers were long and bony, and his smile watery.
Next was the woman. She was at least two heads taller than the first man, dark skinned with a thick mane of ebony hair. She was clearly Magarkan, like Headmistress Marl, although Mikin had never seen one as tall or dark as her. She possessed silver eyes and she was smiling in the photo. Her arm was locked around the waist of the man next to her.
The man next to her. Mikin had to zoom out a little to get a better look at him. That he had Magarkan blood he was certain. He possessed the fangs and muscular structure of a Magarkan, but he was also slimmer, with powerful shoulders and legs. His torso was clearly defined and his hands lacked the trademark claws of a full blooded Magarkan; it was possible that he could have been part Pophusian, but Mikin couldn’t say for sure.
Like the woman, his eyes were silver. Tanned skin and a head of tight brown curls made him undeniably handsome. Everything about him screamed he was the leader of this trio, and it wasn’t difficult for Mikin to establish who they were. The man with the glasses was Flimus Flamus, the woman was Megan, and the good-looking man on the right had to be Aran.
Mikin felt his head was about to explode. What could it all mean? Why were people searching for information about a war that had never happened, and why was Master Kuldor searching for a child of Dartkala? Why did he think Terrana was that child? If the information written in the journals by Flimus Flamus was true … then everything they had believed up to this very day — their entire history — was a lie. A five-thousand-year lie.
And Terrana — did she somehow learn of this too? She had looked like a zombie disembarking from the ship. Mikin just knew that something terrible had happened to her. The look on her face had said it all — she had given up on the world.
“No, it’s not possible,” he said out loud.
“What’s not possible?”
The library in his head shut down as the cube slipped into protective mode and Mikin’s eye was free of any images and text. Instead, he found it filled with the very real image of Master Kuldor, who was kneeling in front of him, with Lady Skiss hovering anxiously behind.
‘You are a clever one, aren’t you?” said Master Kuldor. The fading grid in Mikin’s eye had not escaped him. “My search bots detected a secret room in your libraries but strangely enough, they were unable to enter. You don’t have any idea what that room contains, do you?”
His gaze was so intense that Mikin felt like he was burning. Plus, there was nowhere to run — Master Kuldor had blocked every exit, not that he needed to.
“M-maybe,” said Mikin, fiddling with his trunk. He usually did that when he was nervous.
“Want to tell me about it?”
“It’s just … boy stuff.” Mikin glanced nervously at Lady Skiss, which did not go unnoticed by Master Kuldor. The Imeldor sighed and suddenly picked up the little elephant
. In a flash, they exited the virtual library and Mikin found himself in a small, dark room devoid of any natural light or wiring.
“This room’s been scanned for bugs,” said Master Kuldor, placing him on a padded chair next to a little table. “You are free to talk here.”
“Is there something I should be talking about?”
“Yes. For starters, I should be thanking you for covering my tracks in your library. I realise you didn’t do it for me, but nevertheless, it was appreciated. However, it raises the question — why did you do it?”
“You associated Terrana’s name with your search, that’s why,” said Mikin, looking at him nervously. “Terrana’s my friend.”
A hint of a smile appeared around Kuldor’s mouth. “I can see that. Mikin, I won’t waste time. You saw my search. Do you have any information regarding the child of Dartkala? If you do and if it concerns Terrana, I must ask you not to reveal it to anyone.”
“Even to you?”
Again, the hint of a smile. “There are some of us you can trust. You can always tell me and the grandmaster. You can also tell your headmistress and Master Drummik. You trust these people, don’t you?”
Mikin nodded. He didn’t just trust them — he never wanted to annoy them. Headmistress Marl was too scary! He could picture her spinning him in the air with a foot and hurling him over the mountains behind Minda Yerra.
“I found something regarding a pendant and the last person who was wearing it,” said Mikin, staring directly into his eyes. He detected a faint intake of breath from the Imeldor.
“There was a child of Dartkala mentioned in it, too, but the only reason I paid attention was because the pendant spoken of, and the one that Terrana always wears are the same.”
“Could you show that to me now?” asked Kuldor, barely able to contain his excitement.
Mikin started to tremble. What he was about to do, he had never done before, and he wasn’t sure he had the backbone to carry through with it. But he would soon find out.
He took a deep breath and spoke rapidly before his courage failed him. “Only if you tell me what happened to my friends while they were away and why everyone is searching for information about the war, the Dream Walker, and the Valpuri. Do not leave anything out. Then, you must let me speak with my friends so I can confirm everything with them.”
When Master Kuldor stepped forwards, Mikin took another breath and quickly added, “The cube is tied to my neural senses, and it will erase itself if it detects that I’m being hurt. If you wipe my memory, the cube will know and erase itself. I’ve already delivered instructions for it to self-destruct if it doesn’t receive a command from me every two minutes.”
Master Kuldor stepped back, staring at Mikin from head to foot. He detected a strange aura coming from the elephant and admired his bravery, not to mention his intelligence.
“Is Mikin Daxtia your real name?” he asked, finally.
39
Identity
While Mikin was dazzling Master Kuldor with his intellect, Terrana was in her room at school, waiting to be evacuated. She stood staring at the reflection of her desk in the window. She saw her tablet, pencils, and erasers — items every normal student would have. But there were no photographs of teen throbs, scribbled love notes, or photographs of her family. The desk flaunted its bareness for her and the world to see.
Beyond the window, a school of large rays swam up from the floor and past her ceiling. Kazu was cuddled up against her chest, nestling in her left arm like a baby. Towards the front of her room, three people hovered uncomfortably, ordered to keep an eye on her. Headmistress Marl, Master Drummik, and Master Raimus had just returned with her from the infirmary, and now that she was all washed and clean, she was supposed to succumb to the call of sleep like a good little girl. She shuddered and forced herself to take a deep breath. She told herself that she would maintain control.
She walked over to the centre of her room and spun once on a certain spot. A virtual walk-in closet appeared around her and clothes descended from the ceiling, neatly hung or folded away. She rummaged through blouses, sweaters, and pants throwing most of them onto the floor. Master Drummik, Headmistress Marl, and Raimus watched, puzzled by her behaviour.
Terrana was searching for something, anything that would have reminded her of home. She knew full well that nothing, not a single piece of clothing or item had been retrieved from Fiji — from her little yellow house where she had lived with her parents and brother, but it didn’t stop her from wishing for a miracle. She didn’t even have a photograph of her loved ones, and all of a sudden, she couldn’t remember their faces.
Frustration built like a volcano in her, and her hand automatically reached to her chest to hold her pearl, hoping its familiarity would soothe her. But she felt only bare skin — she no longer had the pearl. The Ancients in Olden Kartath had removed it and given it to the grandmaster so that he could use it to locate the demons. How could they? How could they take the only thing she had left of her world? How could they have taken everything away from her?
Terrana began to shake. Unable to contain her emotions any longer, she screamed. And screamed. Her clothes went flying as she pulled everything down from the racks.
“Terrana!” Headmistress Marl dragged her from the closet. “Calm down.”
Terrana snarled and wriggled out of her grasp, backing towards the window.
“Don’t touch me! Don’t you dare touch me!”
Headmistress Marl stepped back. She had overseen many unruly and upset children of all races and ages, but for some reason, she was unsure of how to deal with Terrana. Perhaps it was because of her grief or even guilt, for allowing Terrana to escape from the school, ultimately leading to Baneyon’s distraction and his death. And to confound matters, it had been Terrana who had killed the queen. Headmistress Marl felt that if she had kept a better eye on Terrana, the girl would not have escaped to a world of death and misery. She could still have been protected.
The two of them faced each other, unable to say anything more. Kazu meowed his displeasure at all the noise and began to bury his snout into Terrana’s armpit before promptly falling asleep again.
Master Drummik walked up to her. “Terrana,” he said gently.
“Stay away!” she warned.
Master Drummik stopped where he was. “Terrana, we know this has been hard for you. Believe us when we say we are worried for you. We care for you and we want you to know you don’t have to suffer all this pain by yourself.”
“Then make it go away. Make it so I can’t remember anything. Take me back home! I don’t belong here.”
Master Drummik’s face fell. “Terrana, you know I can’t do that.”
Terrana stared up at him, her face dark. “Yes, you can. You can make me forget that I’m a murderer. You can make me forget that I’m someone like the Dream Walker. I’m not you see, I’m flesh and blood.” She looked like a little girl, lost and in pain. It hurt Drummik’s heart. Terrana raised her free hand, staring at it.
“The blood of my parents — not Dartkala — runs through me. I can prove it too. Just take me back home, back to my parents’ graves. We can take a blood analysis and I can prove my identity.”
“Terrana!”
Lorn stormed into the room and went up to her. She backed away. She couldn’t look at him. He had seen her become a monster.
“Stay away!”
But he didn’t. Instead, he pulled her into his arms and held her tight. With her face against his chest, she again felt warm and safe. She didn’t try to pull away.
“You are Terrana. You are Terrana from Sector Thirteen and you are Fijian to the bone. Don’t let anyone tell you anything different. You just happen to have this crazy power in you that you can’t control, that’s all. You don’t have to cry or beg. No one blames you for Baneyon’s or the queen’s death. You just … you just need to sleep for a while.”
He had been standing outside, listening to everything she did and said. H
e knew she was filled with pain, and the confusion inside her must have been ripping her apart. When she had started to plead, it had been too much for him to bear, and he had run in.
Kazu meowed his displeasure, a very cat-like, annoyed look on his face. It was clear he was contemplating whether or not to swipe at Lorn for disturbing his sleep.
Terrana clung to Lorn, her tears soaking into the front of his shirt. “Tell me I’m in a bad nightmare, Lorn.”
“We are in a bad nightmare, Terrana. And it’s not going to get any better if we don’t get some rest. We have an evacuation tomorrow, remember? Bagruth, Bindal, and Mikin will be there. They wouldn’t want to see you all sad and miserable — you’d just worry them.”
Terrana nodded. She felt really tired all of a sudden. “Will you stay with me?”
Lorn glanced at the teachers. They both nodded.
“Yeah, sure. I’ll take your flying chair over there.”
He walked her a few steps to the bed and pulled the covers back. She climbed in, still supporting Kazu. She was asleep before he had even pulled the covers over her.
Master Drummik walked up to him and patted him on the shoulder. “Good job,” he whispered. “We’ll be outside if you need us.”
Lorn nodded. The teachers left and Lorn walked over to the chair by Terrana’s desk. He gave it a light squeeze and it pulled out into a small bed. He climbed into it, and it gently levitated off the floor. He was still staring at Terrana when sleep claimed him.
For a few hours they slept undisturbed, while the teachers guarded the door. There was even a leviathan sentry posted out in the lake, and it occasionally patrolled past their window. When he looked in, he saw a peaceful scene; a tiny kitten and a young girl curled up on the bed.
Terrana.
Terrana murmured and turned over. Kazu pawed at her cheek, watching her curiously. Instinctively, her hand moved to protect her face and Kazu pounced on it. He began licking it.
Terrana. Wake up. Terrana groaned and rolled over.
