by Zy J. Rykoa
Chapter Six
My life, your hands ... where now, my friend?
January 14, 997 R.E.
A golden glow spread over the village as storm clouds reflected the final light of the day, but no one in Callibra could appreciate the beauty in such a dark hour. Many did their best to go about their routines, as every attempt made to see the taken family members was denied by the soldiers. A slight tremble in the ground made everyone in the village nervous. It was not common for the ground to shake in these parts of the continent. The last earthquake to have hit Callibra was thirty years previous, when the wars had just begun. Since then, they had enjoyed peaceful living, with little worry aside from bad weather. Those who could remember the day of the quake seemed more nervous than the others, but even they eventually calmed when nothing followed.
Jaden was oblivious to the rumble as he sat in the back of the Hawan truck, still trying to break free of the chains that held him and his friends captive.
‘Ardim was right,’ said Corey, ‘winning was a dumb move.’
‘How did he know?’ asked Konnor.
‘I don’t think the question is how he knew, but why we didn’t,’ Corey explained. ‘As Kobin made note, why would they want the weakest? They want strong soldiers, fit for battle. We sealed our fate by our need for victory. It’s not our fault, really, we have been raised to always want to win. We never thought for a second that the reward of staying would be given to the losers of that match.’
The boys were silent, mulling over Corey’s wise words. They understood how they had made such a big mistake, but like everything else, they could not believe it. The reality of their situation was still beyond their comprehension. They knew they were going to war. They knew they would be soldiers. They knew they would not go home for a very long time. But they did not know what any of those things really meant.
‘Jaden, stop, it’s no use,’ said Dion and pointed with a flick of his head to the right, ‘you’re going to get us killed.’
There was a guard where he had indicated, at the back of the truck keeping watch, but he had not seemed to care that Jaden was doing everything in his power to snap the lock. It seemed a futile effort, so he had most likely deemed it harmless desperation rather than a potential escape.
‘They can’t do this to us,’ said Jaden, finally calming down. ‘They have no right.’
‘In our law, yes, that is true,’ said Corey. ‘That is civilised law, this is primitive. He who has the power does as he chooses. Only those with equal or greater strength can challenge his rule.’
‘Then we need power.’
‘Yes, but to rival the power of thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands of soldiers, you would need more power than the Daijuar.’
‘The Daijuar ... the great protectors of the innocent,’ Jaden mused, ‘does this mean we’re guilty?’
‘They’re just not here, Jay,’ said Bo, noticing his friend’s mood darken even further at the lack of protection from the Daijuar, ‘they can’t be everywhere.’
Jaden acknowledged with a nod, but did not particularly care for the answer. It didn’t matter. As Corey had said, they had sealed their fates. But Jaden would never accept that he was a soldier, not for a nation that had stolen him from his home. He would have joined the United Resistance, where he would fight alongside his brother, but no one else. Not for Hawan. Not for people with whom he had never conversed. And definitely not for Kobin. He would do everything within his limits to get away when he could. As soon as they removed the chain, he would find a way of getting home, no matter who or what stood in his way.
The truck went over a large bump and came to an abrupt stop. All the boys were bounced out of their seats momentarily, some crying out from the pain as the chains scraped on their skin and wrenched their joints. It was then that they noticed the audible rumble in the ground.
‘What’s happening?’ asked Konnor.
‘I don’t know. Dion, can you see anything outside?’ asked Jaden.
Dion craned his head to check through the flap on the back of the truck.
‘I see machines,’ he said, ‘big ones ... but I don’t think that’s what’s causing the rumble.’
‘Tanks?’ asked Corey.
‘No, these are bigger than houses.’
‘What?’ said the boys in unison.
‘They’re enormous, the biggest machines I’ve ever seen!’
As the boys all tried to look outside, there was a boom in the distance that caused the rumble to stop, followed by silence, and then several more booms.
‘What is that?’ asked Konnor.
‘It’s coming from home,’ said Jaden.
‘Perhaps Kobin is holding a celebration to raise their spirits,’ said Corey dryly.
More booms sounded, and then there came what sounded like gunfire.
‘No, something is wrong,’ said Jaden, ‘Dion, what can you see?’
Dion had gone silent, his face suddenly white. He turned to the others, seemingly try to say something about what he had seen, but it appeared he was lost for words.
‘Smoke,’ he managed to whisper.
All the boys in the truck began to look at one another in confusion, but were disrupted when Jaden started banging the chain hard with the loh-korah his grandfather had given him. He would never have shown such disrespect to something his grandfather had given him in normal circumstances, but now he knew that he had to get home, had to get free, no matter the cost.
‘Jaden, stop! You’re going to hurt yourself!’ Dion yelled, finding his voice again as Jaden began to use all of his strength.
‘You! Enough!’ shouted the guard, quickly racing toward Jaden.
Jaden began to shout louder than both Dion and the guard, emphasising each word as it connected with the steel, ‘Let—me—go!’
The guard used the back of his hand to strike Jaden across the head, causing him to yell from the pain and land a final blow on the chain. The loh-korah lit up in bright gold, sparks flying all about him as the chain snapped. Jaden immediately stood up, using the force of his movement to swing his arm back up into the guard’s jaw. The guard was hit so hard that he flew backward, straight out of the truck.
The boys all looked at Jaden, shocked by him managing to free himself, the glow of the wristlet and how far he had just sent the guard back with a single hit, but he was in too much of a panicked state to stop. He quickly jumped out of the truck, removed the keys from the guard and gave them to Bo, who freed the others while Jaden ran toward the village. He was only a few miles away. He could still get back in time. But hope was slim as he realised Dion had been right. There was smoke rising in several places from the valley. The village was under attack.
Jaden ran like he had never run before, faster than in any tennagen match or any time he had tried to get away from Ardim, faster than was even humanly possible. He was running as a man possessed by a greater purpose. His need to save his family was absolute. Soldiers from the other trucks spotted him but did not seem concerned. That was when he noticed that for all the trucks heading away from the village, hundreds of others of all shapes and sizes, including the ones Dion had said were bigger than houses, were heading toward Callibra. He did not know why. He did not understand what he was seeing. But it made him push even harder.
Ahead he saw two men wearing maroon robes arguing. Both had long hair, one with golden brown, the other blonde and carrying a staff.
‘Father!’ called out Jaden.
Tyral turned slightly and revealed the man in front of him to be Kobin.
‘Jaden! Get home. Now! Get them to safety!’ yelled Tyral.
Jaden skipped sideways a couple of times as he passed them, wondering if he should first help his father fight Kobin before racing home, but quickly saw the wisdom in his father’s words and continued on his way.
‘This is not how it was meant to be!’ Tyral shouted at Kobin. ‘What have you done?’
The two men that had once been mistaken a
s brothers now faced off. Kobin remaining calm, Tyral reaching a state of panic like Jaden and his friends. It appeared Kobin was the only one that had been expecting what was to come, angering Tyral even further. Heated wind pushed Tyral’s thin cloak away from his impressive frame, the moving flaps tapping out an unpredictable rhythm and revealing a belt of tools and weapons underneath. He was prepared to fight, even with the sickness threatening to cripple him.
Tyral coughed, ‘Answer me!’
Kobin seemed slightly surprised and said simply, ‘I have done what was necessary.’
Tyral pointed with an open hand, ‘This? This is what was necessary? They are our people! They are the innocent! We are meant to protect them!’
Kobin shook his head in disappointment, ‘We are not Daijuarn, friend, we have only ourselves to protect, and our way of life.’
‘This is our way of life!’
Tyral’s words were barely heard as jets screamed over their heads, bombs lighting up the valley as they unleashed their deadly load.
‘How could you have done this?’ Tyral yelled. ‘I trusted you. We all trusted you! You’re a monster!’
‘This is what we wanted,’ Kobin said calmly.
‘This is madness! My family ...’
‘No, friend,’ Kobin interrupted, ‘it is an end to weakness that will give rise to strength.’
Several tanks and other ground vehicles were passing by on the trail, more reinforcements for what was about to come a full-scale assault. The last of the line came to a halt as it passed the men and a soldier called out to them, ‘Everything under control, sir?’
Kobin turned to him, ‘On your way, soldier.’
‘Your command, sir,’ he said, and continued with the unit.
Tyral became lost for words. The soldier had addressed Kobin as “sir”. He was an authority to these men. It had been this way all along. The military force was never coming to protect Callibra as Kobin had promised. They were never interested in the well-being of those who desired peace. They didn’t care for the natural habitat as they preached. They wanted land for their war efforts. They wanted a base from which to operate their offensive strikes against the United Resistance.
It had all been a lie. One giant, horrible lie.
Kobin had betrayed him and their people. He had allowed this military force to recruit the best of the village, and then he had authorised its destruction for political gain. He had used Tyral to gain credibility with the others from Callibra, as they knew they could trust him to do the right thing. And now they were all going to die for it.
Tyral clenched his fists, one firmly holding onto the staff. All these years they had travelled together, all the hardships they had shared, every time he had saved Kobin’s life, repaid with this. He could not bear the thought. He felt helpless, pitiful and alone.
It was all coming to an end.
He could do nothing to stop it.
‘Do you not see?’ Kobin took a step closer as if to console Tyral, ‘this is what we dreamed ... a new beginning, where we dictate the terms to the world. We now have an army at our bidding. I will rule the Alliance some day. Their leaders are weak and pathetic men. They will bow to me. With you as my right hand, we will conquer their cities.’
‘You have betrayed us.’
‘No. Embrace this future with me, friend, it is the way!’
‘No friend of mine,’ mumbled Tyral.
‘What?’
Tyral’s eyes were cold with hate and yet hot with rage, but Kobin’s features were gentle, masking the darkness of his own eyes. This was his way, Tyral realised, a false and evil charm often used to intimidate people into submission. It was how Tyral had agreed to the plans in the first place and overlooked all of the warning signs of Kobin’s true intentions.
‘Be at peace, friend, let them go, they were peasants compared to—’
Before Kobin had finished, he let out an agonised scream. He fell backward several paces, looking up in confusion at Tyral, who was now holding a knife high in one hand, his staff on the ground beside him. Kobin then felt the wetness seeping from his shoulder and touched it with his hand, confirming it to be his blood.
‘Traitor!’ Tyral yelled and rushed forward with the knife ready for another strike.
Kobin caught the knife with his good hand and the two became locked. They had been of equal strength for as long as they had known one another, both unable to best the other in combat, but now Tyral was ill and Kobin had suffered a fresh and deep wound to his left shoulder. Even with the wound, Tyral would soon be at Kobin’s mercy, but he fought on, knowing his rage could make them equal once more.
Kobin would not let it be. With a kick to Tyral’s legs, he managed to trip his opponent and make a powerful hit to his back, causing him to fall over. The knife skipped away from them as Tyral slid across the ground. Almost instantly he was on his feet again, making a second charge at Kobin. Kobin had no defence except to fall back with the force, and the two wrestled on the trail they had walked for so many years together.
Their limbs were flying wildly with very little contact being made for several minutes. Tyral then managed a hit that broke Kobin’s nose, but it had opened up Tyral’s guard around his stomach, allowing Kobin to kick hard and get away from Tyral. Tyral got onto his knees, winded and unable to stand. Kobin felt the blood seeping from his nose and put a cloth to it to stop the flow and he stood watching Tyral trying to stand back up. Both men were fatigued, trying to catch their breath, but even with the new injuries, it was clear Tyral was suffering most.
It seemed likely he would concede defeat, as there was not much point in going on. The only reason he had fought was in an attempt to bring justice against the one that had betrayed him and his people. The man with dark, sunken eyes, the most evil being he had ever met, had won by any account. No matter the outcome now, Tyral had lost.
Another wave of fighter jets approached; a second strike was imminent. They would bomb the village until there was nothing left, its people trapped by the forces moving in from the one access point to the valley.
Tyral had failed.
All his time spent away from his family to ensure their safety, and still this was their fate.
He couldn’t just let Kobin go free for this. He couldn’t let him live when so many innocent would die.
Mustering energy from somewhere even he did not know existed, he charged at Kobin once more.
‘Stop!’ shouted Kobin. ‘We mustn’t fight!’
His words were lost on deaf ears as the two men became locked together again. Kobin was unable to use his left arm and suffered several hard punches to that side. His only defence was to pull Tyral in close enough that it was too hard to gather any force behind his punches. They both targeted each other’s necks, seeking the kill. Their grips were strong, so neither could speak, but each read the others’ eyes. There was slight fear, regret and anguish in Kobin’s, but what he saw in return caused him to fear like he had never feared before. There was something else in his old friend’s eyes, something ancient and rare. He had seen it once before but could not place the experience. It seemed as if Tyral’s eyes were alight inside, burning with pure hate but also something he didn’t understand. Then he realised where he had seen it, and his own eyes widened with disbelief and shock.
‘You can’t,’ he whispered.
Suddenly Tyral’s body emanated a heat that made them too hot to hold onto. Kobin released his grip and backed away several paces in astonishment. Tyral was almost upon him again when the rumble in the ground became terrifyingly loud and both men began to lose their balance. A tear in the earth snaked its way between them, massive sections of dirt breaking free on either side as new hills and caverns were formed. Tyral took another step toward Kobin just as the ground gave way and he started to fall. Kobin reached out to save his friend from the abyss and managed to grab his hand.
‘No!’ he yelled through gritted teeth. ‘Not this time!’
Tyral stared
lifelessly up at Kobin, as if already accepting his fate as one finger slipped, followed by another, and then another, and then the last. The two men that had been friends for so long were both left staring into darkness, Tyral into Kobin’s eyes and Kobin into the abyss that would forever shroud his world in loneliness, claiming the one friend he felt he truly had.
The rumbling slowed as he turned away from the edge, tears surfacing through the blood on his face. He had failed. His plans, his dreams of ruling the world with Tyral were over. He wondered how it had all gone wrong, whether he had been right in his assessments or not. Tyral had not given him the chance to explain that he had already taken measures to protect Tyral’s family. The rest of their people he did not care for, as both he and Tyral had often made note of how poorly the villagers had treated them. They were not worth saving. He had left the destruction of the village as a surprise, as the ultimate revenge against those that had wronged them. And yet Tyral had seemed to want to save them.
Could he have made a mistake? Could he have misunderstood his friend? The world had a strange method of showing him the errors of his ways. But he had planned it all perfectly. How could he have been wrong? He was never wrong. Not him, not the man of greatness he had become.
No.
It could not have been him. All would have been well if not for the earth splitting apart. Tyral would have appreciated his brilliance as soon as he saw his family alive and well. No, it was not his fault. He could not have planned for this. There was only one to blame. One man. His sworn enemy, the man that had mistreated him more than any other, the man that he wanted dead the most.
‘Vennoss,’ Kobin whispered to himself, ‘you will pay for your crimes, old man.’
With an oath to avenge his friend’s death and all the others that he loved, he sat quietly, listening to the sounds of destruction from behind him in the valley.
Alone again, the world would soon know the power of his wrath.
