Nia cursed inwardly as she fell to her knees, crashing into the floor with all of her weight as the shadow creature narrowly missed her head. A painful, tingling sensation travelled up and down her legs while she pushed forward and into the creature in an attempt to get away. Nia breathed in the misty black fog that surrounded it; it tasted like dirt and putrid smoke. Nia coughed, becoming dizzy and lethargic almost immediately as she army crawled underneath the shadow creature. She could feel her limbs weakening slightly as she fought to stay conscious. What’s happening to me? she thought woozily. The creature roared loudly and Nia felt a brush of cold air hit her back as the thing spun around.
Help! Nia weakly grabbed her amulet and squeezed it with all of her might. You said...you’d be there in battle... She coughed again, her eyelids fluttering heavily as if someone had attached little weights to her lashes.
Nia...Nia...Come with us... This strange voice reverberated through her mind...low, monotone. Where was it coming from? Go where?
Her hands feebly squeezed the amulet again as her head slowly slipped into the crook of her arm. The monster was inches over her now—she could feel the frigid air wrap tightly around her thin frame, breathing in and out with raspy breaths—and a dark chuckle sounded from its invisible mouth...
The amulet, weighty and lifeless in her hand, jolted. Nia’s half-closed eyes opened wider, trying to see through the smothering smog as it hungrily pulled her back into her dull stupor. The amulet began to pulse wildly, as if its own tiny heart had been surged with adrenaline. Nia tried to stare at it, watching in awe as the amulet began to grow hot and unfamiliar in the palm of her hand, its amethyst eyes glowing brightly through the oncoming darkness...
Call my name...and I will guide you... This voice was different than the one she had just heard. It was warm, comforting. Like an old friend. The amulet...
Nia struggled to think through the haze as it pushed her own conscious thoughts away. She struggled to sit up but her arms and legs suddenly felt like heavy lead. She lightly squeezed her amulet again, willing it to speak more—wanting more than anything for it to guide her through the dark shadows—but it only continued to burn into her hand.
Then, when Nia was quite sure she had been hallucinating, she heard the distant squeal of tires as a vehicle braked in the driveway. A number of coughs and chokes hit her throat, as Nia thought about her father coming home from a long day’s work to find his only child sprawled out across the living room floor, choking and sputtering. She wondered if he would be able to see the shadow creature or if her father would just feel it's dark ill-omened presence instead. Her chest ached as she sputtered some more, dizzy and disoriented....Through the dense haze that was as black as pitch, Nia could have sworn she had seen bright green and blue flashes from outside...but she reasoned that it must have been the bright hues of color that had began to dance in front of the backs of her eyelids...
“Nia!” a voice shouted, the front door slamming loudly from the kitchen. Nia tried to open her eyes this time, but it just wasn’t worth the effort...it actually hurt to try. The voice that spoke definitely belonged to a male—but it didn’t belong to her father. She tried to groan so that she could let her savior know that she was alright, but her throat was too dry...her lips were too weak...
The shadow monster roared beseechingly like a mother bear protecting its cubs. The world had begun to tilt from underneath Nia and she could feel herself sliding away into the mist...
“I don’t think so, you oversized waste cloud!” the voice hollered threateningly. Nia heard mumbling and the rustling of speedy footsteps inches away while she clung helplessly to the world she needed to belong in. “Tempest of Maelstrom!”
The monster’s roar rumbled loudly, the smog billowing out much thicker than before as a low chugging sound thrummed gently, vibrating through the tiny living space. At first, Nia wondered if she were only imagining it—the sound of helicopter propellers that seemed to be getting closer and closer—but a violent breeze fluttered across the floor, knocking pictures and ol’ Bessie off the living room walls. The fish plaque flipped through the air, as though caught in an invisible undertow. Nia heard something smash loudly—maybe it was a lamp or quite possibly ol’ Bessie—and she felt her knees begin to rattle from the intensity of the wind. The black mist wafted dangerously close to her face again; her nostrils tickled and twitched as she fought hard not to breathe in another breath of the vile pollution but her lungs began to wrack hard within her chest, pinching and suffocating her with what little fresh air she had left...
“Nia!” Another voice had shouted—this one was very familiar and laced with concern. Nia tried to call out, but her body felt as though heavy boulders were pinning it to the floor and her aching lungs wouldn’t allow her to speak.
“She is mine,” the shadow thing hissed softly, its hoarse voice low and menacing. A loud bang sounded shortly after—and Nia was certain that the monster was attempting to prove its point.
“Guess again!” his voice sounded closer to Nia, just hovering over her weak head. A hand brushed her tightly balled fist, his fingers gently grazing her burning amulet. A sigh, a quick rustle. And then he fiercely spoke, “Gold Lion, I awaken thee.”
The most wonderful, most extraordinary shock softly buzzed through his finger tips, into her amulet and up her arm. It wasn’t painful nor surprising— but warm and much welcomed. A vital energy like no other surged through her veins, beating in time with the lion amulet clutched tightly in her hand. Nia could feel bright white light shining down upon her and although she could still feel the floor beneath her back, she felt her entire body being lifted towards the heavens.
It smelled of sweetness, like cotton candy and honeysuckle. Nia could hear a soft humming from somewhere she could not see and as she went skywards, Nia felt the gentle touch of loved ones passed, reaching out and feathering her tired arms. Just as the top was within reach, her mind’s Eye saw a kindly shadow looming from the light’s pinpoint far in the distance. The ancient woman, dressed in vibrant purple and rich gold cloth swiftly floated forward. Her face was still dark and hid the smile that was evident all throughout her voice.
“You are ready, dear one.”
Nia felt her knees pull in tightly to her chest while her arms wrapped around them securely. Her hair fell around her face as her neck rolled forward, the brow of her forehead pressed lightly into the crook between her knees. The clothes she had had been wearing simply slipped from her body as if they had been wrapped loosely around her slight form but instead of feeling nude and out of place, Nia only felt a sense of great calm and serenity.
“Gold Lion—aid your guardian in battle.”
As slow and peaceful had the journey upwards had been, suddenly with a drop of her stomach, Nia could feel herself free falling from where ever she had been. It was like being born again, except the rush of the fall was empowering and graceful. Hands clenched tightly around her throbbing amulet, Nia fell, twisting and spinning through the air like a bird. She could feel the seams coming undone from the unseen shield that had once protected her—she could feel her arms getting heavy as swaddles of cloth appeared out of nowhere, wrapping around her body, tightly binding her together. Her hair pulled back, twisting gently into a tight bun, tiny curls framing her face. Weighty armor was strapped over her chest and shoulders and she could feel something in the shape of a hilt pressing into her back. Just before her sandal laced feet hit the ground, a sense of urgency overwhelmed her—Place the amulet. Unthinkingly, Nia lifted the glowing lion up and pushed it into her armored chest where it snapped perfectly into place. She felt something slide onto her head and then her feet graced the ground soundlessly.
Nia’s eyes snapped open.
The scene before her seemed to burn brighter than it had before. Standing just inches in front of her was Rowan, sword at the ready and his right fist tucked neatly at his hip.
Another Mystical Knight was there as well, fighting the shadow monster; h
e was tall, dressed in long, billowing robes of emerald green that seemed to shimmer like water in the dull light, casting dark green shadows across the walls. The shoulders of his robes came to sharp triangular points and white cloth was striped down the front with embossed thick black swirling designs, looping and curlicuing down its entire length. His normally short ash colored hair was long now, pulled back into a low ponytail that stopped just below his shoulders.
Quinn.
In his hands, Quinn held a tall wooden staff; at the most top, where the wood had been knotted and carved out, sat an enormous emerald stone, wedged perfectly inside the staff. It was glowing brightly and it seemed to be moving, rotating in a slow circle. Nia could just make out the outline of something carved inside the stone—but there was no time now to decipher what it was.
“You alright?” Rowan muttered, shooting a sideways look at Nia over the brim of his helmet. His hand tightened around his sword, the gems glittered brightly.
“Never better.” Nia—as though she had done this a thousand times before—reached behind her and pulled out her sword as well. The metal hissed as it slid from its sheath. Her sword wasn’t like Rowan’s thick and heavy battle sword; her sword was long and nimble, curving gracefully at the end. It felt nowhere near as heavy as Rowan’s sword looked either. Tiny amethyst gems—much like the eyes of her lion pendent—decorated the hilt, and three more, a small one, a medium sized and a larger stone, had been set perfectly into the thicker part of the blade. Just underneath the smallest stone, engraved into the silver metal, was the marking of a very familiar shape that seemed to twinkle in the dim light. The Eye of Horus.
Nia held the mighty sword expertly in her right hand and curved her fisted left hand just across her forehead. Her knees bent slightly and she reached outward with her left hand, wrapped it tightly around her other hand and swung the sword high into the sky, her knees snapping together as she stood up straight and tall. A new found confidence surged through Nia’s veins—one unlike any she had ever encountered before. Fighting felt like second nature to her—the very way hunting prey is second nature for lionesses.
Sword of Horus, be my Light! a voice riddled through her mind while her own voice shouted out the command. There was a loud crack and a beam of white-purple light showered down, encompassing the sword and filling it with its supernatural power. Nia could feel her hands shaking from the intensity of the light—she could feel the hilt of the sword growing hot and scorching underneath her palms as energy raced up and down her arms like vibrant electricity surging through a live circuit. The Eye of Horus began to glow bright lavender as the sword trembled. And for a moment it was so silent, Nia could hear a high-pitched ringing in her ears.
The shadow monster suddenly flung Quinn aside like a lifeless ragdoll, its endless black eye sockets finding Nia’s face. It roared loudly, sounding much like the loud whistle a train made before taking off from a station.
Nia glowered darkly at the shadow monster, silently willing the thing to come closer. It did, inching its way over slowly, the dense smog clouds billowing out from underneath it like the swelling waves from the wake of a ship. It growled, waving its vapor-like arms high above its massive head. Nia stood her ground, gripping the sword tightly in her hands.
Do not strike the poor soul—focus with your mind, the voice instructed softly. Nia’s eyelids fluttered a bit while she stared the monster down, baiting it with her vulnerable motions. Her heart began to beat wildly in her chest although she was not frightened. She felt her eyes narrow fiercely while she stared, trying to focus all of her energy on the dark minion that stood before her, ready to attack.
If empty eye sockets could blink, the minion’s did just that, staring beadily down at her, as if it meant to ask a question. Nia slowly lowered the sword so that it was pointed directly at the minion’s heart. With steady hands, Nia gazed at the monster, fascinated by the way it merely stood in front of her, watching her with vague interest. One wrong move, a single twitch, Nia thought mildly, taking in deep and even breaths, and you’re dead. Nia gulped. You can die, right?
“Nia—do it all ready!” Quinn groaned from the corner, pulling himself into a sitting position. He winced, rubbing his head. “Cut him through!”
Nia’s face contorted into an expression of absolute concentration. Her arms started to wobble, not from the weight of the sword, but from the way she was trying to focus; she could feel her entire body slowly begin to tremble while she stood, praying her brain didn’t burst into flame. Why isn’t anything happening?
The monster chuckled maliciously, watching her with bewildered amusement. Its unyielding eyes were intently rapt on the sword she held in her hands. Clenching her teeth, she tightened her grip painfully around the hilt. C’mon, c’mon, c’mon! she thought hastily.
Quinn had pulled himself to his feet. There was a small spot of blood just on the side of his head that was dyeing that one patch of ash colored hair a dark red color. He looked over at Rowan, concerned. “I think she’s panicking. You finish him!”
Just relax, the voice whispered gently. Relax your mind. You’re trying too hard. Nia sighed and relaxed her face and body. Push just from behind your eyes. You can do this.
Rowan was almost at her side, raising his sword high above his head when it happened. The most terrible pain laced with euphoria burned from behind her eyes, nearly blinding her from the intense brightness. It was as though someone had shined a Mag-Lite right into her pupils. The pain that had burned her retinas coursed through her brain, bubbling and boiling, travelled down her neck, tingled like pins and needles through her shoulders, shot down the length of her arms and zinged through the sword, surging loudly with a great whir.
“Whoa!” Rowan froze beside her, still holding his sword above his head. “Quinn—”
“She’s glowing,” Quinn noted softly, staring at her in disbelief. “She’s purple.”
On any normal occasion if someone had informed her that she was glowing purple, Nia would have tweaked; it would not have been a good moment for any of them. But the blinding throb had anesthetized her normal train of thought. Only three words buzzed through her mind. Release it now.
With a final push, Nia’s mind softened even more. It was like a wave crashing against the ocean shore; great devastating power followed by the soft and calm caress of the sea. The energy—the light—whatever it was—exploded from the tip of the sword, very much in the way a bullet rifles out of a twelve-gage shotgun. The energy enveloped the shadow creature, wrapping and twisting around it like a boa constrictor. The monster’s mouth went slack and it screamed such a high pitched scream, Nia felt her ear drums tremble in protest. Her eyes welled up just as the monster threw up its arms in surrender. And then, with a tiny poof, it disintegrated, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
There was a moment of disorientated silence before the power surged through the house, turning on the lights and appliances. Nia blinked through the burning, trying to refocus her eyes. It felt as though someone had pressed white hot wires directly into her pupils; Nia’s stomach churned at the very thought of it.
“You okay?” Rowan’s whisper sounded quite strained as though he was still caught in a wave of shock.
Nia slowly nodded, turning to face him. As she did, she caught sight of herself in the lopsided mirror that had slid from its usual position on the wall. Nia gasped and the image in the mirror brought its hand up to its mouth.
She was beautiful, that girl in the mirror. She was tall and slender. Purple, gold, and crème colored cloth wrapped gently around her body showing off her slight curves, leaving her midriff completely bare. The material hung off her bare shoulders, draping across her chest elegantly. More material wrapped around her legs, stopping just above her ankles—and normally the poofy pants would have just looked stupid, but the style just added to the magic. Golden bangles wrapped around her wrists and ankles, gently clinking together with every tiny movement she made. Atop the girl’s head was a light purple s
atin scarf that sat like a stylish hood on top of the perfect knot that her hair made. A large curl of her bangs looped gently into her face, stopping just at the slight bridge of her nose. Her face was perfect too; perfectly painted lips, perfectly blushed cheekbones, perfect eye shadow with intricate strokes of black paint sweeping around her eyelids... The girl in the mirror had to be an ancient goddess, a trick of the mirror and a flaw in Nia’s brain from the small power surge she had just created. This girl could be anything, but there was absolutely no way she and this girl were one and the same.
But every movement Nia made, the girl mirrored back; the same look of awed surprise, the same gentle hand touched her soft lips, the same astonished light touched those vibrantly bright eyes.... Even the large crack in the mirror—
The girl’s eyes narrowed slightly as Nia squinted into the mirror. She whipped her head around, her eyes widening in shock.
“My dad is going to kill me,” she muttered, eyes wide in disbelief.
The house was entirely ransacked; every bill, letter or empty envelope had been littered across the floor like confetti. The dining room chairs and table had been flipped over—one was even broken into pieces—and the old microwave’s door had been ripped from the hinges after its fall to the tiled floor. The living room was another disaster area; pictures and paintings had been torn from the walls—poor ol’ Bessie lay on a crumbled heap of broken drift wood and bent metal. The small side table where Quinn had been thrown was crushed beyond repair.
At the same time, the three Knights lifted their right hands into the air. “Thank you for your aide,” they chorused together. Three jets of color—emerald green, royal blue and amethyst—shot down from the rooftop. Nia felt a rush of heat as the light tingled her body and then it was gone. Nia looked into the mirror, half expecting the beautiful girl to be there, but she was gone. Only Nia remained, looking normal, all skinny legged and gangly. Rowan and Quinn had turned back to their original selves as well—although Quinn’s head was still bleeding slowly.
The Mystical Knights: The Sword of Dreams Page 6
