by Marc Mulero
“In truth, I wondered what it all meant. Am I supposed to use it for personal gain? To spread a message? What is all of this magic for?
“Then one day it struck me. Like an olaphant ramming a tree, it smacked me good.” He paced around the Five Hearts, slowly, weakly, looking at each of them with a glowing smile. “Out of all of the magics, it was my eye into Gushda that truly separated me from the rest. Something that no one could see or hear, no one could relate with, something that was only mine. So it was then I disappeared into it. Like a gateway. A portal. I vanished from Ingora not in body, but in spirit. I sailed the depths of the cosmos for centuries in Rudo time, lost, like you princess.” He nodded to her before averting his eyes to the floor in sorrow. “Then one year not long ago, I stumbled across a treasure, a curse maybe, which was so far buried that perhaps it was not meant to be found. So monumental that I couldn’t let it go.
“I was enveloped in it so intensely that I couldn’t even tell that time was passing.
“When I finally returned to Rudo, I blinked and smacked my own face. I was old.” He presented himself. “Exactly what you see before you now, only I had atrophy and a blanket lying over my legs, porridge by my side, a girl who resembled me feeding my useless body while I mumbled nothings to myself. A granddaughter?! I… have a granddaughter? Can you image not knowing something like that? For all of those years.”
“I was gone for so long that I thought it all a dream, like I was in some sort of coma. You know the feeling, princess, I’ve watched you.”
Her cheeks flushed red when everyone briefly turned to her.
“But in truth, the only reason I returned was because of this discovery. Yes, I know those looks: contempt, disdain, how in Mustae could I abandon a family? No need to say it, I’ve lived the guilt already. It turns out I simply cannot help my obsessions until it’s too late, it seems.” He waved the notion away. “The point is… I am old, and what I found is very real. I must share it, leave it up to the next generation to decide what to do with it. Not one person, no, that would be a terrible inheritance. But perhaps, just maybe, this curse does not have to be so burdensome… if there are others to share it.
“You are from all different parts of our world, all different colors and shapes, have unique skills and temperaments. I choose you – your hearts – I split my eye in the form of these rings, which may as well be gates into the Eternal. And now you possess them.”
“How did you even find us?” Xellious wanted to know.
“Clairvoyance… an incredibly draining magic. But worth the effort.”
“Spying tu mean?” Shetana scoffed.
Rikle’s face was scrunched in thought. “But how would we bring the secret together, if we choose to?”
“Easy.” The Founder chuckled. “Sacrifice your life.”
They were all horrified.
“W-what?” The princess clutched both hands to her chest.
“See, teh devil,” Shetana raised her chin in scorn, “wants us to die.”
The warrior, Gardone, was only silent, his frown deepening.
But Xellious perked up. “No guys. He, um, is saying that the… this secret, is so important that it costs life to unlock.”
“Aha,” the Founder pointed to Xellious, “I am glad I plucked you from the forest, lad. Tell me, what better way is there to curb harmful curiosity than to make the stakes as high as they can get? If the secret is to be uncovered once more, well then, you must believe with everything that you are, that this is the path. And if not, you simply become the secret’s protectors. Its guardians.
“A gift and a curse,” he repeated.
Shetana’s breathing grew erratic… anger, for her tribe, for her people, was bubbling up inside of her like a geyser ready to blow. “Tese tings you do. Stick chur’self inside my head,” she drew her wicked knife and touched the point of it to her temple, “show me terrible visions, terrible. Make me see my tribe die over again. Maybe I kill you, and tees all goes away.” She shoved the blade a few inches from the old man’s face.
“I am sorry, Shetana, the same as I’m sorry for disregarding my family. But I chose you because you can handle what you see. I know I didn’t give you a choice, and for that, I accept your blade… for my work is already done. Whether I wither into dust from age or stabbing, it matters not.” He spread his arms and exposed his neck. “Go ahead. I’ve said my piece.”
Before Shetana could take another step, Gardone’s giant blade intervened. Clash! A flash of light, sparks flying from the stage. Pinwheels of fireworks burst from all four corners of the floor to bolster the effect.
“Tu fight to be a puppet, fool warrior.” Shetana gritted her teeth.
Eres was instantly reminded of his conversation with Seren. It was a similar debate in his mind.
Clash! This time Shetana lunged, her stance wide, swipes feral. Gardone was forced to windmill his blade high and low to dance with this Dagos – she could be anywhere at once, contorting her bones to aim for neck and ankle within the same slash.
The choreography was flawless, even in the tribe leader’s wrath and the warrior’s barbaric strength, it was rehearsed so many times that it looked poetic. Ostara and Dumos – light and dark. Did the Founder expect for this to happen? It was hard to ask that question with such a dazzling show – the audience was nearly out of their seats to see how the playwrights would end this. A crescendo.
Then Shetana roared, bared her teeth, pivoted into Gardone’s space where it would be too difficult for him to swing effectively, and pricked his sword hand.
“Argh,” he grunted before his blade was knocked far out of reach.
A headbutt to the nose left him bloody, stumbling. Then a two-stepped charge – shoulder to chest drove him back.
Everyone looked on in awe as Shetana stood triumphantly, watching her opponent hunch over while pinching his nose to stop the blood.
“Pathetic,” she spat, looking around to see if anyone else wanted to challenge her. No takers. “Hmph,” she pursed her lips as if to say “thought so,” and strutted up to the Founder, her devil, directing her knife to him once more.
“If I am some sort of devil,” he said, “I am an accepting one, Shetana. I know what I deserve. But it won’t change what you must do after I’m gone.”
She bared her teeth. Taking a life was no easy task, especially when this someone was so seemingly defenseless. “Te devil,” she murmured to herself, “don’t be fooled.”
She wound her arm to strike with the blade risen… just as she was about to end him, Gardone jumped in between.
“Move! Don’t make me carve tu both.”
“This is not the way, Shetana. If you kill him, you become the devil.” Gardone puffed his chest, eyes black and blue from a broken nose.
She twitched and held herself back, making the others flinch. “In my tribe, if tu bring shame,” she pointed the knife to the Founder, “then tu are punished. An ear sometime, a finger. If no teeng of consequence, ten no teeng of tribe… just madness.” She waved her knife around, looking for support behind her, but they just took another step back.
“Gah, tu all make me feel like is me who is mad.” She slammed her chest.
“Look at him, Shetana,” Gardone lowered his voice. “Hear him… he’s already paid in full. Can’t you see? He’s only doing what he thinks is right.”
She looked on in silence, arm shaking, the internal struggle palpable. Every attendant was at the edge of their seat.
“Fine!” She finally relaxed in defeat and sheathed her blade, “have it your way. Mercy, mercy, mercy. Soft tings, like pillows in princess’ tower.”
The Founder sighed audibly, walked past Gardone and snatched her wrist. “A fire in you like no other,” he said, locking onto a set of glaring eyes. “Not used to being vetoed, tribe leader, but look at you, accepting it with your own form of grace.” He smiled. “Your pride might be intact, but I wonder… who really won the duel If I’m still standing?”
&nb
sp; “Are tu goading me, old man? Still want tees knife yet?”
He laughed slowly. “I told you already. I am ready for whatever. But, it is surely not my preference. The truth is I came here to Okabin to die. I certainly did not want it to be alone. My hope is that I live out however long I have left… with you,” he motioned to all of them, “to teach what I have learned. To guide you with your new gifts.”
“Over me dead body. Too much time already in tis devil land. Enough is enough.”
“I figured you might say that.” He looked around. “Are there any takers? There is much to know about sailing the cosmos of Gushda. I would hope that all five of you aren’t left to wander blind and deaf.”
Xellious stepped forward first. “I will stay.”
Rikle looked over hesitantly, likely thinking back to his home and his town, but then to the greater purpose. “I will, too.”
“Someone will need to protect the lot of you.” Gardone retrieved his blade and smiled humbly.
“Princess?” the Founder asked.
She shook her head feverishly. “I miss my tower, my maids. I wish you all had never broken me out in the first place… I’d like to go back. Thank you.”
“I will tek you, bubble head,” Shetana offered.
“Very well.” The Founder made a fist, and his protective globule collapsed onto itself, leaving the black winds of Okabin to swirl back into them like a swarm of insects.
“May the two of you travel safely and in peace. You will reunite again,” he promised through Reach before pointing to a clear path that the winds seemingly couldn’t touch. “Follow the road north east. The rest of you, with me.”
“And so,” the narrator’s voice overcame the torium as the stage faded to black, “the Five Hearts journeyed to the darkest depths of Ingora to hear their Founder out, to make their own decisions, to become the first bearers of espers.
“It is true, they did come together again.”
All of the chairs shifted to another stage, where a blink of light showed each of the five appearing older.
“And again.”
Their seats spun and hissed, to show the five of them all still alive, more content than when they first met, hair greying, offspring around some of them.
“And again.”
Their graves were stationed right next to one another, with a new generation of varying races wielding the same rings, all aglow as if paying some kind of homage through Gushda.
“Rumor has it that it wasn’t time that aged the Founder, but the weight of the secret itself. It was all legend however, just a myth, right?”
The chairs rotated and reclined one last time, to face the fading shadow on the ceiling.
“Trust in him remained true, for even at the end of their lives, they chose not to compile the secret and instead passed on the burden to those they thought worthy. To remain the guardians. To be forever known as not one heart, but five.”
Their chairs rose back up to face center stage as heavy curtains fell with a bellow. The audience jumped to their feet – clapping, cheering, whistling to the greatness of it.
Chapter 31
And the Last
The play rocked Eres, truly. It felt like the entire performance was speaking only to him. Could these events really have been an accurate representation of history? Well, if they were, he’d just been led to the largest set of breadcrumbs ever offered. Now he could retreat inward for the night, when no one was looking, and search for the Five Hearts. He knew that if their descriptions matched even slightly that he’d find them. He had the utmost confidence. And from there it would be a cakewalk, like tracing a family tree all the way up its branches – only instead of being linked through blood, it would be by the passing of this esper.
“Wait a second… how could Ramillion, or any of the writers know with such fine detail what took place so long ago?” Eres wondered aloud.
“What?” Kyta shouted over the noise before her brain registered his words. “Oh, I told you already! The consortium. We’ll get there, Eres, don’t worry.” She smiled, squeezed her hand harder around his wrist, and dragged him along.
Eres felt two massive palms on his back and Mudry’s popcorn-smelling-breath heating his ear. “Have to congratulate Ram! Then can celebrate with these people. Okay?”
“Celebrate? Uh, okay.”
They waded through the crowd to get to the front.
“Excuse me! Honored guest coming through!” Kyta used her charm and popularity to smoothly push past. Everyone knew that mousy face.
When she finally got them close enough to the stage they caught a glimpse of the tiny Kujin - whose hands were clasped in gratitude, head lowered as if to say, “You’re too kind.” She snapped her fingers and sent a gentle spark that singed his nose.
Ramillion’s eyes crossed comically and he whirled his hands around like bugs were attacking his face. Finally, he spat and looked down to see Kyta with an ear-to-ear smile, then to Mudry and Eres, who were both laughing and clapping with the rest of the crowd.
Ram wanted to be annoyed, he did, but seeing three thumbs-up warmed his heart so much that he fell into a bow once more.
The praise, the applause, it all seemed endless, until the torium took the opportunity to stop it for them. The mood was changing just by altering the lights. Dimmer, dimmer, dimmer, then blackness. And when everyone gasped with a mix of excitement and suspense - everyone but Eres that is - the fluorescents burst to life. How could it be? Just a moment ago the space was crowded with high-tech seats, and now it was empty, flush and creaseless. A dance floor.
“What’s happening?” Eres swung from side to side at the thunder of cranking machinery.
“Please… now we party!” Kyta shouted over cheers, and then joined in.
She shot harmless flames into the air as each of the five stages burst to life with fluorescent lights, as dancers contorted their bodies. And the music was foreign. Nothing like he’d ever heard in Ombes, or anywhere even. Tribal mixed with… dance? Flutes, deep mystical voice hymns, electronica? It sounded like someone smashed Dagos, Eplon, and Swul culture into one.
When he looked down again, he immediately became uneasy. People were moving in a way he’d never seen before. This wasn’t a coordinated dance to demonstrate culture, it was just… a mess.
What the hell am I supposed to do now?
Mudry was throwing his hands in the air and bobbing his head, Kyta was slithering her hips like a snake or a belly dancer.
It all created so much anxiety. Not the danger type, but bashfulness. He was just standing there, cheeks flushing red, eyes darting. He wanted to leave. Yes, that’s what he would do - slip out. He’d been embarrassed before, plenty of times, but one instance came to mind – the same one that always did. Meeting Day with Crow and Windel.
Why did he have to make a show of it? Ugh, why are all eyes on me now?
As he tried to push past the circle forming around him, a server whirled straight into it, forcing Eres to back pedal. The man spun with ten multicolored drinks perfectly balanced, handing them out gracefully.
“Our guest of honor!” The server shouted, and bent forward so low on one foot that his back leg kicked over his head. He held the position, still as stone, waiting for Eres to take one of the drinks presented to him.
The server knew the weight of the plate, and would not move until it shifted.
Eres looked around. More eyes were on him. After an eternal moment frozen in time, he grabbed one, nodded and smiled weakly to the mob trying to sway him.
“Yahh!!!!” the crowd roared in between pulsing music. “Yahh!!!”
He took a sip. “Whoa…” His eyes nearly bulged from his head. It was bitter at first, then flavorful… then wham, a smack of whatever it was that was making everybody crazy.
“Aha!” Ramillion pounced down from his dais. He was so low to the ground that he made a front flip look effortless. “Don’t tell Lorfa! She’ll have my head if she knew… oh, oh, a little won’
t kill you. Life is too short, lad, live in the moment for once!”
“Haven’t you been alive like… forever?”
Ram mumbled a bunch of nonsense while gently guiding the glass up to Eres’ lips until the liquid poured down into his gullet.
Eres put his hand up, coughed, and blew out air like a horse. “Whoa- okay,” he hiccuped, “I’m good.”
His world began to spin… in a good way. He suddenly felt lighter, not physically, but mentally. Maybe having all these eyes on him wasn’t such a terrible thing.
Who do I know here? He placed a hand nonchalantly into Ram’s cheek to push him aside. Mm. Hmm. Oh it’s them!
“Kyta, Mudry!”
“Uh oh. Virgin lips.” Kyta giggled.
“Wh- what?” Eres was laughing even though he didn’t know what she was saying.
“Oh Mustae.” She giggled again and handed Mudry their drinks. “C’mere you.” She grabbed both of his hands and swung him around to try and transfer her rhythm over to him.
It took him a minute, but eventually his inhibitions disappeared and his ridged awkwardness went with them. He was a native there, or so he thought for the time being. One thing was certain though, he was swaying and laughing in a way he never would have, ever, without the help of this drink. Firecrackers of energy were going off inside of him. It was euphoric. Foreign. This was nothing like the few that he had at the Colliding Spheres.
“Keep’em coming!” He shouted randomly.
“What?” Kyta gleamed.
“More drinks!”
“Hah, oh boy.”
“I’m not a boy!” He giggled back.
“You’re actually not a bad dancer, Eres.” She looked him up and down, impressed.
“Ehm,” he cleared his throat, let go of her hands, spun, and grabbed her again. “This music is so weird. Upbeat, I like it.”
