by K. V. Wilson
Glancing at me fingers, I watch as they grow and elongate into needlelike ebony claws. I imagine them tearing into the face of the man who’d murdered me at the end of his sword so many centuries ago.
Saint Patty, I’m comin’ for ye!
Elspeth lets out a great draconic roar. “All aboard, Lycansss! Tonight we feel the blood of the Covenant and the Knightsss upon our fangs and our clawsss!”
“Fer once, I sssecond that!” I hiss.
Lycans clamber onto me great scaly hide. Me bestial armor is the colour of roasted hazelnuts and me horns are a deep onyx like Elspeth’s. The Lycans cling on fer dear life as I ascend into the awaiting sky.
“To the Second Battle of Conwy! To the Guardiansss and Yeva’si who risked their livesss fer our cause and now require our aid!”
“One hell of a battle speech, there, mate,” Ace grumbles from his place upon me thick scales. “And whaddaya mean, second battle?”
“Conwy was once the site of a great battle between Nwyfre, Patty, and yours truly.”
“Ah.”
Quinn lifts off beside me, nearly sending her Lycan riders soaring at the extent of her enthusiasm. The wind buffets our faces as we ride the currents north towards the uppermost tip of Wales.
Damian lets out a whoop. “To victory!”
52
FALL OF THE CHIEFTAIN
Skye
"Who are they, Sejka?" Xunnu whispered, aiming his spear at the newcomers. "Do you know them?"
I turned towards the chieftain's son, exasperated. "No! I mean...I do not know. If I do, it has been years. Perhaps centuries."
But there was one thing I did know.
These people were hunters. Killers of shapeshifters and spirits. They would not rest until we were destroyed.
"She led them here!" Sehwen boomed, his words punctuated by a cry of affirmation from Xáan. "She is one of them! She led us to believe she was here to protect us, when in fact—"
"Quiet!" I snarled at the chieftain.
I did not care anymore about impressing Xunnu's father or even Xunnu himself. That time had long past. Sehwen could not accept me when I was the runt of the tribe, and he certainly could not accept me when I finally revealed myself as the Ru-Yeva, the Guardian tasked to protect his people from harm.
"Listen, Yeva'si! I am no traitor! I stand with you until the end!"
"She lies!"
"You have two choices, shapeshifters! Take flight and save yourselves or get behind me and fight for the safety of your people and your homes! I will lay down my life for you if need be!"
Xunnu placed a hand on my shoulder. "No, you won't—"
"Yes!" I screamed. "I will!" I lowered my voice to a whisper, addressing only my lover. "I have come far. I know what I have to do."
"But look at their weapons," he retorted, jerking his spear at the figures. They were rapidly advancing upon us, carrying large metallic weaponry that sent a bitter chill through my bones.
A humourless smile crept across my face. "It will be my pleasure to take these humans down. No one messes with my Yeva'si."
Six men emerged from the forest beyond our encampment, followed by dozens and dozens more. I stood my ground, ignoring the wails of the shapeshifters behind me. Some of them darted into the woods while others ducked inside their dugouts, cowering as the soldiers surrounded the site. Still others Shifted into raven form, flitting into the sky.
One soldier raised his weapon and gazed through the sight. I shuddered at the ensuing boom, forcing myself to keep my eyes locked on him even as I heard the whoosh of flapping wings, the grotesque cry of a bird just before the awful thump of its body slamming against the earth.
I clenched my fists and swallowed, taking a step forward. Dozens of guns cocked in unison. Firelight reflected off the weapons as the soldiers trained them on me.
"Monsters!" Xunnu raised his spear, eyes narrowed and raven hair billowing in the breeze. "Can you communicate with them, Sejka?"
I held out an arm, forcing him to stay put. "Humans," I breathed in English, hoping the comprehension of the language I'd gleaned from a past life was sufficient.
One of the men took a step forward. "Very observant," he replied in the same language, clapping his free hand against his armoured wrist in applause. "How brave you are to take a stand. Most demons cower before us. Like they do," he added, gesturing to the dugouts and then raising his hand to indicate the flight of the ravens. "Though some are not fast enough," he sneered.
My skin bristled, beginning to ripple with the initiation of my Shift. I pushed my animal side down and jerked my head at the soldier.
"And who are you? What makes you think you can come here and ravage our village? What have we ever done to you?"
"What have you done to us?" the soldier mocked me. "You need not ask. I'm sure you remember."
"What is he saying?" Xunnu hissed, keeping his spear poised.
The soldier roared, advancing upon my lover. "Shut up, demon!"
I raised my palm, calling to the flames. A spark grew upon my hand, churning into a white-hot ball of pure fury. "I'm the one you want."
"That you are" – the soldier spat upon the earth – "Ru-Yeva."
My eyes widened. They knew who I was, which meant my control over the elements would be no surprise to them. They must have come fully prepared to take me down.
"One last chance. Leave us and I will spare your lives!" I snarled at the men, holding my palm up so all could see. "I command the flames!"
"An enticing request, but we will not oblige." Turning to his comrades, the soldier yelled, "Fire!"
I grabbed Xunnu's hand and pulled him down, calling to the water for a cover of fog. I spread this around the campsite, hoping that the remaining Yeva'si were smart enough to run for the dugouts. Perhaps they had memorized the settlement's configuration and could find their way without incident.
"Sejka! I can't see!" Xunnu gasped.
Perhaps not.
"Xunnu!" I cried. "You and the others must do as I say! I can feel your spirits; I can sense the enemies. Let me be your guide!"
A flurry of bullets tore through the haze and I crawled towards the north, calling to the fog to lay itself on even thicker.
"She lies!" Sehwen growled. "Kill her, Xáan. Kill her while you have the chance!"
As the chieftain spoke, Xunnu's younger brother emerged from the fragile fog, staring me down like some sort of stone gargoyle. His fingers were clasped around a spear, its tip aimed at my heart. My brother, Koyah, appeared at his friend's side. His eyes were no longer angry, however. They were pleading.
"What did they say to you, Sejka?" my brother asked softly. He crouched, ignoring the gunfire that pelted through the fog, tearing into the dugouts with unrelenting force.
"They called us all demons. Stop this madness, Koyah! Help me fight them; this is no time to turn against one another."
"What does that mean? Demons? Does he speak of the stories of our ancestors? Of the cannibals?"
"Yes," I told him simply. "He believes we shapeshifters must be removed from the world if there is to be balance."
"Balance," my brother said softly.
"But it is they who are disrupting the balance," Xáan observed, eyes boring into mine. "And so are you."
Sehwen roared a challenge from the far edge of the clearing. He was on the move, but I had the advantage. He could not see a thing, and neither could the soldiers.
"Do not listen to her, Xáan. Kill her now! She brought them here! She would see us all die!"
I raised my voice, ignoring the tremble that fought its way to the surface. "I am your Guardian, Yeva'si! Do you hear me? I live for one purpose only: to bring balance to the earth and all upon it! I am the bridge between worlds! I am one of the Three!"
"What does that mean?" Koyah repeated like a child caught in a trance.
"It means, Koyah, that I am not here to win this war but to end it."
I raised my hands, willing the fog to split and le
ave me exposed to the soldiers' fire.
Their leader scoffed. "Sweet words, but they are empty. Lies, falsehoods meant to tease and manipulate us. Enough, demon. Fall, like Mac Tíre did. Fall like Nwyfre did. Each time you awaken, you are weaker and weaker. I will follow you to the ends of the earth until you cower beneath me like the vermin you are."
"You are wrong," I whispered to myself. "I am not weaker, but far stronger. I am not only Sejka, but I am Sitka, former chieftain of the Yáahl. I am all of my past lives. I have built my entire being upon their knowledge and that of my tribe."
The soldier released a harsh laugh, and I called to the flames so they danced across my palms with a renewed vigour. My body lit up like a bonfire, a torch in the night. All eyes were drawn towards me.
"Sejka!" It was the distant call of my father. "Take my strength. Drive them from our lands!"
"No, Father," I responded, feeling a chill seeping through my blood at the thought of withdrawing my strength from those around me. "No. I have enough of my own."
The soldier chuckled. "A father-daughter argument, I would presume," he sneered. "Always a creature of drama, aren't we, Ru-Yeva?"
The man unsheathed a weapon I hadn't seen the likes of in centuries. My firelight glinted off the tarnished silver of the blade, sending my head reeling. My eyes narrowed at the memory, the deafening sound of steel clashing against steel. Of Mac Tíre's blade, Adhair, screeching to a halt against this formidable weapon. I did not know the name of it, but at the same time, I felt its presence as if I had been there the day the blade had been plunged deep into Mac Tíre's heart.
The sword of Saint Patrick.
"Ah, your memories are coming back to you, Ru-Yeva," the soldier said with a wide grin. "You recognize this blade as if you have caressed it yourself. With the tenderness you would bestow upon the demon children it has snuffed the lives from."
"Enough!" I screamed, launching myself skyward into a near-impossible leap.
I crouched as I collided with the earth, sinking the landing directly in front of the leader. I peered into his eyes. What I saw was not the love and tenderness I had seen in the eyes of every other being on this earth, even those of Sehwen and Xáan.
What I saw was pure, unrelenting fury towards all that I am and all that I ever was.
"Show us what you can do. We have been waiting," the soldier crowed, his blade dancing across the side of my shoulder.
I sent a ball of flames towards him, gripping my shoulder as pain lanced through the muscles. The fire seared against his armour but did not penetrate it.
"Die!" I screamed, forcing the flames to embody me until I was a storm of elemental energy, a fierce ball of hatred towards this man and everything he'd done.
The soldier chuckled. "I will not die, today, Ru-Yeva. Nor will my loyal followers," he cried out between swings at me. "We will achieve our goal of ridding the world of your Curse."
The soldier growled as he swung Saint Patrick’s sword with blinding force, nearly decapitating me. His sickening laughter echoed across the clearing as the fog began to subside. I did not have enough energy to keep the particles aloft. As I scanned the battlefield, I could see the forms of Yeva'si men and women standing their ground against the soldiers.
They may all die, and it's because of me. Because of me and Mac Tíre and Nwyfre for bringing them to life in the first place.
"We are with you, Sejka!" Father hollered as his form altered to that of a grizzly. He swiped at a nearby soldier, roaring in pain as a bullet pierced his hide. He stood on his hind legs and then slammed upon his enemies, driving them into the earth.
I whipped around, focusing once again on the followers of my greatest enemy.
Saint Patrick is centuries gone. Why do these men blindly carry out his wishes?
I shut my eyes, willing the spirit of Ulawey to take hold of me. I reared up, forcing my ursine energy skyward as I followed the motions of my father, swiping at the nearby soldiers with all my might. The flames licked at my fur, and I sent them soaring towards the faces of my attackers. The soldiers swatted at the fire, hindered for a short time before they were upon me once again. I cried out in agony as Saint Patrick's blade cut into my foreleg, sending spirals of pain through my body.
I felt the spirits of my comrades wink out one by one as the last nuances of life slipped from their bodies. I gulped, sending my body into overdrive. My heart was set on ending this battle before any more lives could be lost on either side.
I sent a bolt of lightning down from the blackened sky. It split into multitudes of smaller arcs, and I directed the energy towards the soldiers before me and my father. They convulsed and crumpled to the earth, one by one. I was too blinded by the throes of battle to sense the presence of any other. Not Koyah, not Xunnu, not even Xáan or Sehwen.
A terrible cry pierced my eardrums just as a nearby spirit faltered. The breath caught in my throat as I witnessed a soldier yanking a blade from my father’s chest.
"Sejka!" Father croaked, his heavy body sliding to the mud and landing with a thump that pounded heavily in my heart. "Take my energy," he pleaded.
"No! I can't! Father!"
"Take it! It's yours…now."
I rushed to him, ignoring the soldiers hot on my heels, the blades still piercing into my skin. I gathered all my energy, focusing on his soul, but just as I began to send it into my father's body, his fleeting spirit winked out like a candle in the wind. His mouth twisted into a slight smile as he laid eyes on his only daughter for the last time.
Take it.
I choked back a sob as I channeled my father's lifeless energy into my own body. I whirled upon the soldiers, narrowing my eyes as I stared into the haughty expression of the man who wielded Saint Patrick’s blade.
"That's it. Show them how much of a demon you really are. Kill me now and my point will only be proven."
I called to the lightning once again. The bolts seared against his helmet and he released a scream of agony as his skin began to singe. I drew upon my newfound energy – that of my father – as I directed the rest of the lightning towards the other soldiers, forcing them to retreat. I advanced upon them, relishing the looks on their faces at the destructive energy I was capable of summoning.
The leader stepped back, nearly tripping as he retreated towards the woods. He sheathed his blade and aimed his gun at me once again, firing one last shot. I sent a fire bolt at his gloved hand at the last second, and the bullet was sent skyward with a deafening crack.
The rest of Saint Patrick’s followers disappeared into the woods. I felt the energy of the earth and of my father encompass me, healing my skin as fast as the weaponry tore through it.
"Leave! Leave and never come back!" I growled at the soldiers.
"You will get your wish," their leader chuckled maliciously, "for a time."
"Ru…Ru-Yeva…" a nearby voice sputtered. I glanced down to see the crumpled form of the chieftain, his limbs twisted upon the muddy ground.
My eyes widened. His injuries were great. "Sehwen. Chieftain." I knelt beside the leader of the Yáahl tribe, placing a hand on his thigh. "Let me heal you."
I glanced around the battlefield, at the clearing the shapeshifters once called home. The wood of the dugout houses was still alight with the ghosts of the flames I'd commanded. The muddy ground was torn apart by the bullets of the soldiers who'd tried to take our lives. Yeva'si cried out in pain, calling to me for aid.
"I will help you!" I responded, turning back towards the chieftain and raising a hand to begin transferring my energy to his wounds. "You have lost much blood, Chieftain. Let me—"
"No!" He spat on the ground as he rolled over, tearing his gaze from mine. "I will not have your help. I will die in peace knowing the truth about you. This was all planned from the start – your betrayal of my tribe. The humans let you go because you are one of them. You are one of them and always have been."
I gulped, standing up and stepping over him so I stared into his eyes one l
ast time before his spirit began to slip into the void.
"I am a spirit of Earth," I said softly, my voice level. "A Guardian placed here to protect it and all that live upon it. I always have been and always will be."
I broke into a sprint, heading towards the next injured soul. I would spend all my energy and that of my father in order to heal the people who'd aided me in defeating the soldiers. Out of the corner of my eye, however, I glimpsed the form of a snow-white bear. The animal held my gaze for a few short seconds, its eyes wracked with pain and sorrow, before it turned away, heading into the gloom of the woods beyond.
Koyah.
Brother.
"Sejka, let me help you," Xunnu mumbled. I hadn't noticed his approach. "What do you need?"
"Some eywany leaves and a basin of clear water," I told him softly. Then, as he set off towards the southern woods, I called upon the rain to put out the last of the fires, working quickly to heal my tribe members.
The accusatory glare from Xáan at his father's untimely death was nothing compared to the emptiness I felt from losing not only my father that night but my brother as well.
53
SIXTEEN OATHS
Skye
An insistent tone drags me back into the present. As I force my eyes open, my vision blurs with fresh tears. A heavy heart thuds against my ribcage.
“Sejka! Awaken!”
I blink, staring into the fearful eyes of Koyah. Lost in the wilds for fifty years – through no fault of his own – and now he’s here. He’s here with me.
“Take my hand!” he orders in Yeva’si.
Everything comes flooding back in a rush of grief and woe. Flint roars as Patercius’ blade slices into his ursine shoulder.
Patercius.
He may go by a different name in this life, but there’s no denying it: the soldier in Sejka’s memory was a form of Saint Patrick. He reincarnates like we do. Sejka just didn’t know it at the time.
