by Adam Watson
Aseeka ran her finger across Kayla’s face in a soothing manner and brushed the hair out of her eyes. Kayla was beautiful … for a girl. Aseeka never usually noticed other female’s beauty but stuck here in the cell with her, it was kind of hard to miss.
There was not much else to look at anyway, except moss, dirt or perhaps the occasional rat scurrying past. She hummed to herself, a tune that her grandmother had often sung to her as a child after her mother had passed away. ‘The Jaunt of the Fairies’ it was called if she remembered correctly and even though the title sounded happy and fun, the tune itself was quite peaceful - it had certainly calmed her down on many an occasion.
Perhaps the oddest thing she had encountered in the cell, which had come upon her completely unexpectedly, was the fact that it was peaceful. She had never known a place that was so silent, so quiet; somewhere deep underground, locked away from the world. Despite the cold and the circumstances that got her there, she was finding that she liked this silence. The peace here had somehow cleared her mind, it somehow took away the jumble and mess that was in there and replaced it with a tranquillity - she liked that tranquillity, but she also knew that it wasn’t going to last.
***
After Rayne’s night watch had ended, she had gone back to the barracks to sleep. Ever since the attack, she had had to share her sleeping quarters with an assortment of other soldiers - both men and women. She didn’t like it, but she could put up with it for now. Still, she did curse the Creed every night for turning her world upside down, she had to abandon her room and all her worldly possessions just to survive, and now she was stuck in this walled hell.
Every soldier in the city had retreated to the safety of the walls except for those who stayed to battle the Creed in the streets. They were all dead now, of course, and most of them would be forgotten; their courage, their valour and their bravery wasted in a battle they couldn’t win. That fact made Rayne sad - all the good ones were dead. All the really good soldiers, not only the good soldiers but all of the good people that she had known were dead - what a tragedy.
For the first few weeks after the takeover, Rayne had thought and expected that the remaining soldiers, the ones that had survived would be the same. That they would be like all the other soldiers she had ever known in the Royal Army. That is, good and decent men and women who would fight and die bravely for their country, and for the first few week or so they seemed like they were, but then over the coming weeks, something changed. Something was different, she couldn't quite put her finger on it, but it was like something had tainted the army or that something, something unknown to her, was corrupting it.
The change had been subtle and gradual. The Commander used to be a happy and jovial man; leading his troops from the front, he was fearless. Now he was withdrawn and quiet, hardly spending any time at all with his fellow soldiers.
It was reasonable to expect that being holed up inside the city walls would put a dampener on one’s mood. Rayne also thought that being put in charge of containing the Creed to the city might change you as a man or a woman, but this much? No, there was something more to this. It was like he was a different person.
All right, the Commander had changed … so what? Like she said before, someone in his position, with his responsibilities could change. By itself, that knowledge only worried her slightly, in fact, it probably wouldn’t have worried her at all if she hadn’t started noticing the same change in a lot of the other soldiers around her. She hadn’t dared mention it to anyone, she didn’t know who she could trust.
Maybe being trapped inside the walls was playing with her mind, maybe she was being paranoid … or maybe, just maybe, something sinister really was afoot. She had decided that she would keep her suspicions to herself for now. Whatever was happening, it didn’t seem to be affecting everyone. She thought that if she just kept quiet, doing her duty and taking her orders without question, then no-one would suspect that she knew a thing. Whatever was happening, one thing was becoming quite clear to her - she had to get out of there.
Lying on her bed, other soldiers in her room; some her allies, some her enemies, but neither she nor they knew which was which yet, she contemplated the day’s events. She lay with her eyes shut, the room was darkened but had just enough light to see and move around in. There were soldiers coming and going from the room at all times of the day and night, such was the nature of the army. She pretended to be asleep, but in her mind, she made plans.
The man who had come from the city, the one with his three friends, she knew who he was. He looked old and haggard from when she last saw him. Something bad had happened to him, something unnatural, something that had sapped his life and torn pieces from him, but she was certain that the man lying on the cot in the corner of the mess hall with the healer attending to him was, in fact, Dray Amora.
***
Goran had woken and fallen asleep many times on that cell floor. Time had passed, he was not sure how long. Was it days? Weeks? He hoped it wasn’t months, but however long it had been, it was significant. He hadn’t moved from that spot for a long time - he hadn’t had the strength.
Sometimes he would awaken to find a food bowl right in front of his face, other times it would be water. He had just enough strength in his arm to bring the sustenance to his mouth, by the time he chewed and swallowed, he needed to sleep again.
Another time when he had awakened, he found that he was lying in a puddle of his own piss; it was uncomfortable, but warm on the stone floor - the guards didn’t care. They did care when he defecated himself, maybe it was the smell, maybe it was disgust, but something had spurred them into action.
The next day when he woke he found that someone had ripped his clothes off and washed him down. He pitied that poor fool, but he was also secretly thankful. They covered him in a blanket from that day forth; it provided just enough warmth to keep him from dying.
This day was going to be different, he could feel it. This day was going to make him smile, it was going to make him happy. His strength was finally starting to return and he was going to be able to get up off of the floor and lean with his back against the wall. He almost starting laughing at that thought but didn’t quite have enough strength for it.
Desperate men dream of simple things. One of the elders in his clan had told him that, when he had asked what it meant, the elder had answered ‘You will see.’ Goran wanted to laugh, now he knew exactly what that meant. Most men dreamt of gold, of women, of glory - he dreamt of sitting up. That’s funny, he thought. That’s really funny.
Getting copious amounts of gold, access to the most beautiful women or achieving fame beyond reckoning was an impossible dream for most men, but sitting up was more than a dream - it was something he could do, and he was determined that he was going to do it this day.
He was sure he could do it - he had to do it - what other choice did he have? To lie on a stone cut floor for the rest of his life? Having someone wash his arse for him? He thought about that for a moment and internalised; he squeezed his buttocks together tight … and then loosened … tight … and again loose … he breathed a sigh of relief … he could feel no signs of tampering in that region - anything could have happened to him whilst he was unconscious. Now things were a bit more urgent, now he needed to get up before something did happen.
He moved his hands to the floor and pushed with all his might. Nothing happened, except now he was out of breath and had broken out in a sweat. Goran let out a frustrated sigh. This was not acceptable, this was not acceptable at all - this was defeat. What if his ancestors were looking down upon him now, what kind of show would this be? He placed his hands on the cold stone floor again. This time he needed to focus. He took a deep breath, psyching himself up.
“Come on you bitch!” he shouted, through gritted teeth. He pushed and pushed with all his might, but again nothing happened. He took another breath and starting pushing again; his whole body was tense, his muscles were shaking. “COME ON!” he shouted, bu
t again he fell to the floor.
“THIS IS BULLSHIT!” he shouted, and he head-butted the ground out of sheer frustration. Now his eyes watered and his nose bled. That was stupid. Not only was it stupid, it fucking hurt. Rage began to build, frustration was its fuel. He couldn’t get up, his eyes watered from the pain, he was sure his nose was broken as it dripped blood onto the floor. Goran stared into that sanguine pool, as he did the possibilities began to fill his mind. He closed his eyes as rage took its hold, and when he opened them again - the world had turned red.
“YYYYAAAAARRRRRRHHH!!!!” he screamed, as the berserker inside unleashed itself. Strength funnelled into his body, filling it with power. His senses were heightened; his sight, his hearing, his touch. He sucked in the air around him deep, filling his lungs with oxygen and his body with life - in that moment he knew what it was like to truly be alive.
He pushed his hands against the stone once more, this time he knew it was going to be different. His ancestors were watching, they would not be happy if he didn’t get up. He could feel the power flowing into his arms, filling them with strength.
“I AM THE BERSERKER!!!!” he yelled, revelling in the fury. NOW! He pushed himself up, he could feel his body leaving the ground and standing, and once he was up, he had no intention of stopping. He charged the barred door in a frenzy, smashing into it with his hip and shoulder, but the door was strong, and it had been built to keep the strongest in - he bounced off it like a ball off a wall.
Immediately he was back, grabbing onto the bars and shaking them with all his might; the clanking echoed throughout the dungeon. He roared like a wild animal. He shook and shook and shook, but no matter how hard he shook, the door held.
Eventually, the rage wore off, and when it did, his strength left him, and he fell to the floor. He crawled his way to the back wall and sat with his back against it.
He felt weak now, he laboured for his breath and was covered in sweat - all his strength had left him for yet another day. Goran leant his head back against the wall and blood from his nose dripped onto his chest; he didn’t care - he was beyond caring, for the rest of this day at least.
So he sat there in silence, just trying to get his breath back before sleep overtook him once more and as he did, he thought about what he had achieved here. A smile crept onto his face, a small smile of self-satisfaction. He was off of his stomach and no longer lay in the middle of the room, his arse facing the ceiling - now he sat upright against the wall. Oh yes … it really is the simple things that desperate men aspire to old man.
“I win.”
***
Dray slept, his dreams were a nightmare and a chaos. As his body lay still, his mind chopped and churned. Sights and sounds flew by his conscious at a rapid rate; his visions were an anarchy and a bedlam. Pandemonium reigned supreme, as his sanity succumbed to the turmoil inside.
Inside his mind, he tried to make sense of it all. What did it mean? What was happening? Why was he here in this place? What were the visions trying to tell him and what had happened on the outside to bring this chaos into his mind?
His mind had slowly been falling into the depths of madness, he watched the visions come and go. Over time he realised trying to make sense of it all was a mistake. The visions were not telling him something, but rather taking him somewhere.
With this realisation, irony encapsulated him; the moment his mind stopped trying to make sense of it all, was the same moment of clarity that put his conscious back on the pathway to sanity. Something was pulling his mind in a direction, something wanted him to see. He stopped resisting and let it take him there.
His consciousness began to travel through a void, an ethereal plane. The visions came and went, not so much visions anymore, but destinations. It was like travelling through a previously unknown realm, a realm where the world could still be accessed, but on a different level. What had become of his body that had brought his mind to this? He would have shuddered if he could.
Suddenly the force that was pulling his consciousness stopped. Ahead he could see a vision in the void. Somehow, he knew that the vision was like a gateway and that he could send his mind through it, but what surprised him the most was how familiar the vision seemed; he was almost certain as to where it led. Somehow this was a gateway to the Oracle - he didn’t hesitate to go through.
On the other side it became clear that this place was the Oracle. Somehow his consciousness had made its way into a part of the Oracle’s mind; he was certain that it had something to do with the mysterious bond they shared.
Why he was in there was a mystery, but he already knew some things about the situation. How he knew, he wasn’t certain, but he knew. He knew the Oracle was sleeping, he knew that she didn’t know he was there. Maybe she could sense him if she were awake, maybe she couldn’t - it was hard to tell. Either way, he didn’t want to wake her until he knew why he was there.
He thought that there had to be a reason that ‘force’ pulled him in there. There has to be. He tried to tune his mind to the Oracle’s; he wasn’t sure how, so he concentrated and focused on being one.
He tried to imagine himself inside the Oracle. He tried to imagine what she would be thinking, what she would be feeling. He tried to imagine what she could hear, what she could taste, what she could touch. He tried to be calm and become one.
Images flashed in his mind. The Oracle was asleep, she dreamt of peace. She felt relaxed, she felt safe; someone was with her - watching over her. A feeling of happiness flooded into Dray, for the Oracle was safe.
Then there was something else - the others presence. He couldn’t tell who it was, but they were close, so close he felt like he could almost reach out and touch them. Was this why he was sent here? Yes, it had to be, something had happened to his body, and now his mind was trapped in this ... place or realm or whatever it was. It had to be something to do with the ring, it had to be something to do with Tempus. It was a sign, an opportunity to reach out and contact the other person.
Suddenly it all made sense. Without the use of his body, the Oracle was left unprotected; he now knew what he had to do. With his mind, he reached out to the presence of the other. He pushed, there was resistance, whoever it was, they weren't going to let him in.
Desperation grew, an overwhelming feeling that this state wasn't going to last came over him; time was of the essence. There was only one reason for his being, and that was to protect the Oracle, and if he couldn't do that, then he needed to ensure that somebody else would.
Psychic focus took hold, his mind became an intense beam. His focus was on the presence of the other; he had to burn through the outer layers of resistance and get inside. The presence was strong and tried to resist him, but he had a power that came from the ring, and with a surge of psychic energy, he burst through the barrier and into their mind.
Immediately chaos surrounded him, the meld of minds proved to be a maelstrom to sanity. He could feel what she felt, and she could feel what he felt. It was a dangerous mix of emotions that threatened to destroy them both - he had to get out before he destroyed both their minds.
The emotions poured downwards in a spiral, like a funnel sucking everything from below. He could feel himself sinking, being pulled in. He knew in that moment that if his mind got sucked down there, he would never awaken. He pushed and struggled, his mind raged against the torrent. He had to get out, but he had to protect the Oracle first.
PROTECT THE ORACLE!! his mind screamed. PROTECT THE ORACLE!! The emotions pulled him down, he felt like he was going to drown, but he pushed back harder. PROTECT THE ORACLE!! With a final heave, he wrenched his mind out of the others and back into the void. PROTECT THE ORACLE!! The words echoed throughout the realm. Suddenly the visions flashed past him, faster and faster, he felt as though he was going backwards, back to where he had started, everything was getting whiter and whiter and whiter. ‘KA-BOOM!’ He opened his eyes.
***
"PROTECT THE ORACLE!" The command boomed loud in A
seeka's mind, and she woke up with a start. Her heart was beating a thousand times a second, and she was drenched in sweat - what a nightmare that had been.
She had dreamt that something had been boring into her mind, making her writhe. The pain, the agony, the madness that followed. She shuddered thinking about it, she looked down and immediately felt calmer. Kayla was still there, still using Aseeka’s lap as a pillow; Aseeka smiled. She looks so peaceful and content. And for some reason that made Aseeka happy.
As she looked down, she noted the beauty of Kayla’s face. Her skin was as smooth as porcelain, and her complexion was so light it was almost white; which was a stark contrast to her hair, which was as dark as night. She went to brush Kayla’s face in a soothing manner, but when her fingers touched her skin, visions began to flash in her mind, and emotions pulsed through her body unbidden.
Aseeka lifted her hands to her temples, staring down at Kayla, visions and voices flitted through her mind. PROTECT THE ORACLE! Aseeka could feel strange emotions entering her body. She knew they weren't hers, they weren't unpleasant, but the sensation scared her.
A deep feeling of love seeped into her body, catching her in its snare and intertwining with her own emotions. At first, she resisted, trying to battle it, but as she stared down at Kayla, she suddenly felt at peace, and so she let the feeling overtake her.
It was strange, but the love she felt seemed to be directed at Kayla. It wasn't a sexual love or lust, but a deep seeded love; as though Kayla was the most important thing in the world to her. Now she had an overwhelming desire to protect her.
"I won't let anything happen to you," she whispered. Kayla snuggled in closer to Aseeka’s lap; she seemed comforted by her words. Aseeka had never been one to care about others before. She had a hard enough time trying to take care of herself, but this was different. Kayla was important, more important than anything, more important than herself - Aseeka was resolute. Nothing bad will happen to you Kayla ... nothing.
