by Marc Mulero
Ohndee slapped Eres’ chest out of nowhere. “I know it’s tempting, but one of us still needs to be awake. We need to take turns in the night.”
“So… tired,” he complained.
“Ugh, and I was going to suggest taking a trip into your esper. You need to find that woman whose been here before.”
“And what if we have to run on a whim? It drains me, Ohndee.”
“We can’t keep wandering around aimlessly. We need to take a risk. The live map malfunctions every time we get close to the shadowed land. How did she cross the threshold?”
After some more back and forth, Eres reluctantly agreed.
“Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He surveyed their surroundings, still uneasy about the prospect of her being alone in the wilderness. “Pinch me if you’re in trouble, and hope that I’m able to decipher that it’s from you.”
Ohndee took a deep breath and replied, “Alright. Alright. Just go already, will you?”
He studied her softly, thinking that she would reconsider, but her set jaw spoke to her finality.
“Godspeed in there.”
Eres sighed and looked away before his finger lit up and his head fell back on the log, proving that he was now faraway.
The sudden loneliness and responsibility shot nerves all around Dee’s body. She quickly got to her knees, unsheathed Eres’ blade and scanned the jungle apprehensively. Its peaceful whispers no longer seemed so friendly. Trees were bending out of place, the sparks gifting light were less frequent, and the swaying became violent. Was it all in her head, though? Could it be that her mind was playing tricks on her? Sido camp taught her all of this – to exist in solidarity without fear, to survive without waiting for the aid of another. Every highborn was ready for the perversions of worry. All she would have to do was recall her training, and reverse engineer her terrors and recognize what was an actual threat versus what was in her mind.
She relaxed back into her seat when she realized it was all her. Adrenaline slowed, breath calmed, surroundings slowly rewound back to normal speeds. It was okay… everything was okay. Eres was just minutes away from returning, she hoped, with the knowledge they needed to find the Judicator and be done with this place.
Then a low, deep hum like a foghorn shook her back to her feet. She scanned left, then right, then about-faced a few times, the feeling of eyes on her prickling her skin.
“Atunda sun, aloonda hrun.” A voice echoed around her, startling Ohndee even more.
Now in a pure panic, she dove down and pinched Eres, whispering intensely in his ear for him to come back. It took a couple of more tries, but eventually, he was startled awake.
“What is… everything okay?”
She shook her head.
“No?”
She latched onto him with one arm and held the blade point first toward the jungle with the other. “It spoke… the shadows spoke, Eres.”
Dee was worried he would think she was crazy, but to her surprise, he didn’t seem that bothered by it.
“Do you know something? Spill it!” She shook his shoulder. “What did you find in there?”
“Nothing! You pulled me out of it as I was following her!”
“Then why aren’t you disturbed that a jungle just spoke to me?”
Eres almost snickered at her Swul-ness, but refrained. “In Kor Vinsánce, Keeper Decalus was prominent with his Reach. I’ve heard him speak through the vibrations of his nature-made walls. Here, either you’re going nuts, or that’s what’s happening again.”
She let out a deep sigh. “Okay. Believe it or not, that’s somewhat comforting. So this… Masarian character may be sending us a message?”
“Maybe. What did the jungle say?”
“It wasn’t in Universal. Umm… A-tunda soon, a…lunda run?”
“That sounds like gibberish…”
Ohndee threw her arms wide. “Sorry if I’m not fluent in jungle!”
“I wonder if it was in Umboro… a message for me?”
The leaves shook hard to again produce a godly voice, “Atunda Sun, Aloonda Hrun.”
Now Eres’ eyes were wide. “Yep. Umboro. Okay let me think.” He fell back into his seat with a hand holding his chin, eyes to the floor. “Atunda Sun. Fate is known. Aloonda Hrun. They cannot roam.”
Ohndee looked at him curiously. “Why do you seem unsure of yourself?”
“Because it’s a weird phrase. No Umboro would talk like that. The speaker is probably not native.”
“Maybe it’s purposely strange, like a riddle,” Ohndee suggested.
Eres shrugged. “Fate is known… that could be regarding our future, our place as Dawns, as boundless, who knows.”
“Oh Mustae, it could be a warning, about us escaping Elesion as Dawns. Eres, Masarian may be telling us to leave his jungle because the Factions are after us! That’s probably why we can’t get to him… because he doesn’t want to see us!”
Eres looked at her blankly, agreeing, but before he could respond, a roar that startled them in their seats shot them to their feet. Both heads turned abruptly from the rustling of leaves, and then eyes followed the noise surrounding them.
“It’s something big.” Ohndee grabbed Eres’ arm. “We have to get out of here… we’re not welcome.”
“West. We go west, to Ilfrid’s shider.”
She turned to run, but Eres pulled her back by the hand with a finger over his mouth. “Wait,” he whispered, following the crackling sound of soft branches. “There’s more than one.”
Ohndee furrowed her brow. “They cannot roam. Maybe the riddle isn’t speaking about us, but about whatever it is that’s following us. Maybe they can’t hurt us?”
On cue, an enormous lion-like creature pounced through the massive leaves, landing just feet away from the frozen duo.
“I think that’s a stretch,” Eres responded to her, slowly unsheathing his blade.
The creature roared in response, baring fangs that could’ve been made of black marble, and sending with it wind that matched the strength of Eres’ impeller.
The feeling instantly reminded Eres of his device as they were both pushed back, as their boot prints slid backward in the grass and arms were thrown over their faces. He then readied to respond in kind. In a motion that would’ve rivaled a gunslinger in the wild-west, Eres drew his impeller, pointed it straight at the creature, and clicked it. Whereas the sheer force would’ve knocked any of the races off their feet, this animal was too large, too heavy, causing it to only skid inches back. It was startled, however, causing it to turn away for the briefest of seconds.
“Run,” Eres mouthed before the creature could reopen its obsidian eyes.
And they did. Abandoning their path, they dove into the mess of jungle. Moist swirling vines were swatted, leaves that could’ve been blankets were knocked down and crumpled beneath their feet. It was frantic, made worse by the loud thumps catching up to them.
“It’s an alpha Sur!” Eres shouted in front of him.
He could see Ohndee skip in her step from the words. She didn’t respond except to run harder.
They zigged and zagged, until Eres glimpsed from behind the same set of glowing eyes that plagued them in the shadows before. The vibrant orbs stared at the duo, tracking them slowly, and Ohndee, looking over her shoulder every two seconds, was heading straight for them. Eres grasped at her to pull her off course but couldn’t quite reach. His breathing was too erratic to slip words in between them, and the Sur now sounded like it was just inches behind him. He could hear the vicious groans of a predator, taste the warmth of its breath surrounding him, and then he heard a scream.
“Ohndee!” he cried.
She’d disappeared in thin air, was pulled off her feet and vanished into the abyss of the jungle.
He cursed to himself, unsheathed his blade, and then somersaulted into an about-face before winding up in position to hack at the beast with all of his might. Just as he was about to dive straight into the Sur’s
lunge, the glowing eyes broke from the shadows and a figure came in between them.
The unknown figure was tall, lanky, and sported a large black bun that was replicated several times down his back… a Dagos. Sage-like, he was bathed in loose, earthy green cloth, neck hugged by large beads that fit within the gargantuan nature of everything in Dundo-Ba. The Dagos commanded the authority of a referee in a duel, forcing Eres to stop short without a word. Same for the Sur.
The unrelenting glare in the beast’s eyes just a moment ago had been immediately turned to that of a sheep. The creature pounded hard on the grass from the abrupt halt in its pounce, and awkwardly rounded in its own tracks, hiding half of its face beside its protruding shoulder blade.
Eres couldn’t believe his eyes. The Dagos hadn’t even lifted a finger… in fact, his hands were held behind his back. What was this guy who could command such power? Masarian Bo was said to be an Eplon, so who was this?
The Sur lingered in its pace, apologetically, begging for permission to leave. And when the Dagos turned to face Eres, it dashed away.
Eres fell backwards onto his bum, chest heaving from the aftereffects of fight-or-flight, and then attempted to get back to his feet when he remembered that Ohndee had been captured or worse.
The Dagos held out a hand to ease his fears.
“Is she alright?”
A nod was all that was reciprocated, and all that was needed, really, allowing Eres to finally let loose and fall exhaustedly onto his back, limbs spread. Between returning from his esper, trying to understand what the forest was telling him, being chased by a Sur, and losing Ohndee, he was spent. As thankful as he was, it was hardly a care that this mute Dagos was standing over him… and when he found the strength to lift his head again, the man was gone.
Chapter 19
Judgement
More days had come and gone. Snarls and rumbles kept Eres on his toes and out of his esper for fear that there wouldn’t be a random Dagos sage to save him the next time. Gathering food was now a lonely task – he missed play fighting with his Dawnfriend, learning from one another, deciphering poison from vitamin. All he could do besides survive was find a way to get her back, and then get the hell out of there.
Time wore heavy. He didn’t understand the jungle like he did the forest of Dolseir. It wasn’t home, and there was no shack to return to. No ooma’s warmth or guidance. No Kor to look forward to tomorrow. He missed those times, when he hadn’t felt abandoned and betrayed, well, not to this magnitude anyway. Back then, discovery overwhelmed the day’s challenges. It was good, healthy – enough reward to excite him into replaying his octor before bed. Simpler times, when he had a father to protect him, absent though he may have been, and proctors to guide him.
After his mind wandered for a bit, he gazed about the barren jungle despite its plant-life, dull even though beasts were prowling to eat him. All he could do now was ponder the path his suspected puppeteer was leading him down.
“Atunda Sun: Fate is known. What fate? Mine? Ohndee’s? Is Masarian trying to tell me that he knows why I’m here? That I intend to be a Skrol?” he pondered aloud before diving into thought.
Wait a second… the first part of the riddle doesn’t matter. Whether he knows or he’s trying to tell me that I know, who cares. It’s the second part that means something. A warning. Aloonda hrun… they cannot roam. Why does that sound so strange?
Eres mindlessly gathered grapes that he’d eaten before so he could be mentally productive… and then, in the midst of reaching for one, he stopped short.
“The phrase sounded weird because I’m not translating it right. It’s not they cannot roam… it’s two cannot roam. Me and Ohndee! It’s a Skrols test. We’re supposed to be alone in everything we do.” He frowned. “What Sur shit!”
His face tensed. “But I’m alone now. Does that mean I have permission to proceed?” He then scrambled to pull out his live map to sate his suspicions. And when he saw that everything was in working order – no more strange flickering or mismatched compass, he knew the truth of it… he was free to travel into the shadowed land now.
His eyes peered up to the undulating leaves. They had changed direction. Their swaying reversed and a new path began to form, like they were winding down some castle gate and admitting him into some natural kingdom. Eres knew in his mind that this was the right track. It had to be.
In he went, beside bracts and pads twice his size that circled endlessly, egging the Dawn onward around piles of leaves that proliferated without stems, under vines sparking harmlessly, and through blankets of humidity that smelled of smoke bombs. He was getting closer. Closer. And that’s when the jungle’s high grass turned jet black and flattened once more, this time in a wide circumference, a freshly carved arena, or a crop circle. Either way, it was nature disturbed by intelligent life. And in the center of things was an Eplon, as promised.
There he was, with smoke perpetually rising from his collar like the wisps of heat rising. And in sage-like fashion, he was draped in intricate layers of brown, forest green, and white, similar to the silent Dagos that Eres had bumped into earlier. All of his other features were irrelevant, because it was his eyes that overwhelmed everything – a green so lurid that Eres paid no notice to his unnaturally receded hair-line nor the wrinkles that swirled around his face like tribal markings. This was the man he saw in his esper. This was Masarian Bo.
“Judicator!” Eres called boldly, rounding to face him directly. “My companion, please! Give her back.”
The demand sparked the same flame-like eyes he’d been seeing in the shadows, this time two sets on either side of Bo.
Eres looked both ways, acknowledging his shrouded audience. “I don’t care what you throw at me – she is my guest on a Skrol’s quest, and even if I’m to exist in solidarity, I will not abandon my manners.”
His attempt to weave appeal and communicate his understanding of this journey caused Bo to smirk.
“Who has her?” Eres stomped closer, black grass rising only after stepping past it. “The silent Dagos?”
“Ofel is only silent because you do not listen.” Masarian’s voice echoed not only from his mouth, but through vibrations underground.
Eres looked to his feet in distress when his mind began to churn. “Factions can’t track you, can they? You have a connection with Reach that allows you to throw decoys to set them off-course. No, you can remain completely hidden here…”
“Agden warned me of your mind even before you could walk.” His voice gently receded from the ground. “Tell me, Eres Way, why have you come to seek me out?”
“Because it was better than rotting away in Elesion. Now, please… my companion.”
As the silence fell between them, Eres was able to see the Judicator more keenly, noting that the swirls were not markings at all. They were wounds.
“I reject the premise that a young Umboro as lucid as yourself would endure the jungle of Dundo-Ba… out of boredom.” A tremor vibrated beneath. “Have you, Eres Way, come to be judged, like your father before you?”
Eres wasn’t mesmerized by Bo’s Reach. He’d seen better from Agden, Wudon, Decalus. And he wasn’t into riddles either, for he’d suffered a lifetime of them in the care of his ooma. Not to mention the endless one within his esper. Instead, his mind raced, wondering as to why perpetual heat was rising from Bo’s collar, and how, if need be, he could defeat him to get Ohndee back.
“If circumstances were different, I would yield to your games, High Judicator, I would be at your mercy to be named a Skrol. But you have taken someone dear to me.”
Masarian Bo lifted his pointed chin. “A first lesson then. Clouded from the mission before it has even begun. Such strong attachment can pervert a Skrol’s purpose. They operate alone.”
Eres stomped defiantly to shut out the Reach. “Yeah, how’s that been working out?”
Bo hooted long and loud, sending the leaves to whirl all around. “Do you think, Eres Way, that this is the first threat
the Skrols have faced? That Seren Night will be the undoing of thousands of years of success?”
Eres sneered. “How can you call the current state of things a success?”
“Because their secret is still scattered.” Bo clasped hands behind his back and strode forward within his black field, grass pulsing with every step. “Skrols surrender everything to become what they are. Your father was no exception, as I’m sure you know. They are powerful, Eres Way. And do not think just because Agden completed his trials that his son will too. You will be awarded no special treatment.”
Eres didn’t back down. He continued to inspect the strange Eplon before him, forming potential conclusions from what he could see. “I don’t desire handouts, nor am I certain of my path any longer, if you will go to such lengths to keep a friend away from me.”
Bo’s nostrils flared. “I needn’t remind you that if not for Ofel’s interference, you and your friend would both be dead.”
“Allies don’t capture other allies, nor do they play games in times like these,” he challenged. “So, I will analyze you as a potential enemy since that’s what you’re appearing to be.”
Before the Judicator could respond, Eres continued, “You need this humidity,” he held out his hands to feel the dense air, “because you were wounded by something… likely an Aegod. Why else did that woman offer you serpent string?”
Bo clenched his jaw, begrudgingly listening to the overconfident boy’s theory.
“I’m on to something, aren’t I? I’ve read of the wounds that cause skin to dry and deteriorate rapidly. You suffered them, didn’t you?”
“A perceptive youth.” Bo’s voice echoed through the jungle. “The pain would be unyielding, yes, and has been before. The Aegod’s touch was thought fatal by my people… who are of limited medicines. I was given a year, sentenced to certain death. But I refused to accept it. I was stubborn, like you perhaps. And for it I was rewarded, for I stumbled upon my fellow Dagos - their shamans more open, adaptive, with healing methods as ancient as the Skrol secret, and as it turns out, of greater use than what I was offered by the Eplons.”
