Rise of the Fallen

by Ivory Autumn

  The Sontars who had watched the whole thing, from a ways off, swarmed around him, hissing and spitting.

  “What did you do to Argot?” a Sontar asked.

  “It's his hands,” another cried. “Don't look at them,” one screamed. “It hurts my eyessss. It's too bright.”

  The prostrate Trolim suddenly stopped its convulsing twitching, and slowly stood up, apparently unharmed. It looked at Andrew, hatefully. “Get it, you beasts! It’s a despicable thing! It's ruined my tail. Kill it, kill it! Get rid of it. It is an enemy to the Fallen One, an enemy to Morack, an enemy to you!”

  Sontars crowded around Andrew, hemming him in on all sides. No one dare touch his hands. Andrew smiled, feeling powerful. “Get away from me, or I’ll turn you into coal dust.” Just as he said that, a Sontar seized him from behind by his dark hair, and dragged him from the cave.

  “Treason, treason!” the little Trolim shouted, jumping up and down, following them out of the pit. “Kill it, kill it!”

  ~~~~

  Chapter Five

  Krot’s Garden

  Andrew was thrown before the Sontar captain, and made to kneel. “Your hissness,” the Sontar guard told the captain, “this boy attacked our Trolim. He deserves death!”

  The captain bent down and wiped his clawed hands over Andrew’s dirty neck, revealing the star marks that had been seared into the boy’s skin. “It’s as I suspected. It is the boy. I knew this would probably happen sooner or later. He was supposed to be out of my camp a week ago, but there has been a change of plans. I’m not sure when he’ll be taken from my hands.” He scowled, staring at Andrew with his snake-like eyes. Andrew’s face and clothes were black with coal dust, like any ordinary slave, but Andrew's bright blue eyes were clear and piercing. The Captain turned away from the boy’s gaze. There was too much power in it, too much spirit.

  “I should kill you!” the captain shouted. “But I can’t, or my head would be forfeit. Your life is highly valued. First, the Lord of the North wants you for himself, but offers me nothing in return. Then Vargas offers a sum for you, then Morack offers me more. What am I to do with you? Perhaps I should keep you for myself! What powers do you hold boy, that so many would want you for themselves?”

  Andrew kept his eyes fixed on the ground, giving no answer.

  “TELL ME!”

  “I DON’T KNOW!”

  “Fine, if you will not tell me the truth, I will make you talk! Guards, go tie him to the post in the middle of town. Give him no food and water.”

  The Sontars dragged Andrew out of the foul-smelling prison camp, into a filthy street littered in garbage, where there was a great post, which they tied him to.

  Miserable as he was, Andrew still had a bit of pride left in him, and when the cruel people of Nookpot came to gawk at him, he would look them in the eye as if to say, “how dare you!”

  At first, Andrew was happy to be out in the sun. It had been so long since he had seen it. The Sontars would usually work him during the day, so all he ever saw was continual night. But, as the day wore on, the heat beat down upon him, causing him to feel delirious with thirst.

  The next day passed much like the first, except his nagging thirst continued to grow. Everywhere, he saw mirages of water that tortured his thirst. He called out for mercy, but no one heard his cries---no one cared.

  Towards the closing of the second day, after having no food or water, Andrew lay with his head resting on his chest, dreaming of cold limewater that flowed from the ground, in Hollyhock Hollow.

  Andrew raised his eyelids, feeling something jabbing him in the side of the neck.

  “Hello?” a voice ventured.

  A girl stood in front of him, holding a long-stemmed rose. She jabbed Andrew again, poking him with the sharp stem.

  “Ouch! Stop!” Andrew cried. “What are you doing?”

  “Oh,” the girl stammered, looking embarrassed. She smiled, and dropped the rose. She looked to be about his age, with long wavy red hair and bright green eyes. There was a little wooden wheelbarrow full of flowers by her side. “I’m sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. I'm glad you're...not...dead. I thought you were, for a minute. You look thirsty. Would you like a drink of water?”

  Andrew licked his swollen, chapped lips, and nodded.

  The girl smiled, and touched a dipper full of water to his lips. Andrew smiled in thanks, drinking it down quickly. She gave him another dipper full, and still another.

  “Thank you,” Andrew said, when he'd finished. “Thank you.”

  The girl smiled and wiped Andrew's dirty face with her handkerchief. “You poor, poor boy. Why are they doing this to you?”

  Andrew shrugged and pulled his chapped lips together into a tired smile. “It’s complicated.”

  The girl stroked a dark lock of hair hanging down Andrew's face, behind his ear. “I’m a girl, I can understand complicated. I heard that there was a boy, who saved a hundred children from being trapped in the mines. Was that you?”

  Andrew shook his head, feeling ashamed. No amount of people he’d saved would ever make up for what he had done to his village. “No. That wasn't me. I believe that boy died.”

  A look of disappointment crossed the girl’s face. “That's very sad. I'd...hoped...” her voice cracked, and she turned away and started to push her cart down the road. She stopped, suddenly turned around, and came back, carrying a pronged metal device.

  Andrew looked confused as the girl neared him. “What are you doing?”

  The girl smiled, put a finger to his lips, then she snipped Andrew's bonds with the tool, as if his shackles were flowers instead of iron chains.

  “Looks like you’ve done this a lot,” Andrew surmised, rubbing his sore wrists.

  “Nope. Actually this is my first time.”

  “Really?”

  “Yup. Now, quickly, get into my cart and I'll get you to safety.”

  Andrew did as the girl commanded. She made him lie flat, then covered him in her bouquets of flowers until he was totally hidden. Then, glancing around her, she turned and wheeled him away as if he were just another flower. As she walked, she sang in a soft, pretty voice. “Flowers by moor, flowers by the sea, flowers don’t mean much unless they’re grown by me. Everywhere you look, the colors bright and fair, will never compare to the colors the flowers wear. In the meadow there’s a hill so blooming bright, that if you happened to pass by, you’d think it was moonlight.”

  Andrew listened to her clear, soft, melodic voice, and yawned. The gentle bumping of the cart and the smell of the flowers relaxed him so much that he fell asleep.

  The next morning he awoke to the sound of water running, and the soft to smell of lavender. For a minute he thought he was home. His bed was made up of the flowers from the night before. But they were no longer soft and beautiful; they were dry and dead, as if they’d been cooked.

  He was in a huge greenhouse with row upon row of plants surrounding him. It was humid and hot in the greenhouse, but it felt safe. He hadn't felt that way in an extremely long time. But that thought triggered another. He had to get Freddie and Talic out of the slave camp. He had to leave; he had to find a way to help them.

  Amid these thoughts, the redheaded girl appeared, like a fairy dancing among the flowers. “Hi,” she sang out, tripping up to Andrew and inspecting him with her green eyes. “Did you sleep well?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “Good. I brought you something to eat. You must be very hungry.” She held out a small loaf of thick, brown bread, with some cheese, and a flask of goat milk.

  Andrew gratefully took the food and wolfed it down. The girl sighed, pushing her hair behind ears, that were almost as pointy as Andrews. She perched herself on an old wooden platform, swinging her legs back and forth, watching him eat. “What’s your name?”

  “Andrew. What's yours?”

  “My name’s Ivory Autumn.”

  Andrew smiled and picked a flower from one of the pots in the green house. “Ivory,” he
said, placing the bright white flower in her red hair. “Thank you for what you did last night.” At those words, the flower in her hair instantaneously wilted and turned brown, the petals falling from her hair one by one. Andrew frowned, perplexed that the flower had died so soon. Ever since he had left the Hollow, his gift over plants was toxic and nothing more.

  She smiled at him, leaned in closer, and traced the star-star shaped scars on his neck, not seeming to respect his space. “What are those markings?”

  He backed away from her and he blushed, feeling uncomfortable. “Don’t touch me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I said so.”

  “Gosh, you’re rude.”

  “I’m sorry. I...uh...better be going. I don't want to get you into trouble.”

  Ivory brushed the dead flower from her hair, anxiously. “Please, don’t go.” She moved closer to him, her eyes filling with terror.

  Andrew backed further away, feeling cornered by this strange, yet pretty girl.

  “Please,” Ivory went on, following Andrew. “I’ve been so lonely here. I’m sure Krot wouldn’t mind taking in another mine worker---that is if you know how to garden.”

  Andrew shook his head, still backing away, nearly tripping over a large flowerpot. “I’m sorry, but, I’ve got to leave. I have to help my friends. They need me.”

  Ivory’s eyes filled with tears. “I understand,” she sniffed, her voice quivering. She looked at Andrew, sadness gleaming in her eyes. The minute she'd laid eyes on him, she had been drawn to him, somehow knowing that their fate was intertwined.

  “But why?” she asked, Andrew. “If you go back, they'll just put you in a dark hole where you'll never see the light of day again. You won't be able to get your friends out. Believe me, I know. Here it’s safe. You can be my friend, and you will never go hungry.”

  “You’re probably right.”Andrew rubbed the star-shaped scars on his neck, wishing the ugly marks would disappear. “But, my friends are all I've got. If I leave them, I’m no good to myself or anybody else.”

  “Then,” Ivory murmured, “you must go. Your friends are very lucky to have someone like you. I only wish I had such a friend.”

  “You don't have any friends?”

  Ivory nodded, “No, I don’t…” Then remembering something, her sad eyes lit up, and she twirled around in her ragged dress. “But, the flowers are my friends.”

  “The flowers?”

  She stopped twirling and glared at him. “They’re much better friends than an ungrateful boy.”

  “No. It’s just that…”

  Ivory glowered at Andrew. “What? You think you’re better than my flowers?”

  “No…YES. That is, you don’t understand. I would like to stay but. I can’t.”

  Ivory sniffed, and turned her back to Andrew, trying to look indifferent. “Well you better go, boy. Especially when your FRIENDS are waiting for you to come back and join them in the pits. You had better go before Krot finishes his breakfast. Here, I'll show you the way out.”

  She led Andrew to the door, and pushed him out. “Get out of here, boy, before I decide to put you back where I got you.”

  Andrew stopped and turned around, “Hey, you’re being unfair.”

  Ivory frowned, cocked he head to the side, and raised her brows. “I, me, being unfair. No, you’ve got it all mixed up. You’re the one being unfair. I saved your life. Now you just want to leave without offering to, at least, help me do my chores for an afternoon. Gosh, boys. You can never find gentlemen these days. Why do I even bother?” She let out an exasperated sigh, and disappeared back into the green house.

  Andrew rolled his eyes, and shook his head, following her. “Okay...fine, Ivory. You’ve one. What do you want me to do? If it means that much to you, I'll stay, just for a few hours to help you. But no longer. Okay?”

  She stepped out from behind a large row of flowerpots, and shook her head. “You’re joking, right?”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “You’re not?” She repeated, running up to Andrew smiling brilliantly as she hugged Andrew. “A few hours? Agreed.”

  Andrew laughed, and shrank away from Ivory’s embrace. This girl seemed different. Almost as different as himself. “So, ah what do you want me to do first?”

  “You just stay right here and I'll go speak to Krot about you,” she exclaimed, quickly leaving to find him. She came back with Krot---a fat short man with a bewhiskered face and graying hair. Krot eyed Andrew, critically. “Dis is da boy den?” He shook his head and turned away. “He’s a dirty, skinny, boy. Totally useless! Get hem out of here, Ivory, before da Sontars find dat he’s missing, and day eat me alive, for treason.”

  Ivory looked at Krot, pleadingly. “But, Krot, I could get a lot more done with his help. I'll bet he could even cut the hedges that you hate trimming.”

  “Ah...trim the hedges...yes. I hate doing dat.” He looked at Andrew and scowled. “Do you know flowers, dirty boy?”

  Andrew nodded. “Yes sir. I’m from Hollyhock Hollow. And I farmed one of the very best plots there.”

  Krot's eyes brightened. “Hollyhock Hollow? It’s been years since folks around here heard dat name. Fine, fine. Ivory show him vhat to do. Vee shall see if you are as good as you say you are.”

  Ivory flashed Krot a wide smile. “Thank you! I'll go show him what to do right now.”

  “Good.” Krot said, watching as Ivory pulled Andrew from the greenhouse and out into the gardens. “The sooner you start working, the less I have to do.”

  “I think Krot likes you,” Ivory said, as she skipped along, humming.

  Andrew shook his head. “I’m sure he does. As much as a lazy man likes those who do his jobs for him.”

  Ivory bent down, and smelled a beautiful white flower. “Around here, we take whatever kindness is offered, no matter how small. It might be a very long time till we get the pleasure of another.”

  She brushed her hair back, and led Andrew past rows of bright star-shaped flowers. The air cooled as they passed the fields. A smell like wet rain filled the air. Row upon row of these flowers filled Krot's garden, their brilliant white petals looking like masses of drifted snow covering the ground.

  “Is this the only kind of plant you grow?” Andrew asked, looking somewhat baffled.

  “Yes. The starflower is the only thing we plant here. Sometimes I plant other things, but that’s my secret.”

  “Why this kind of flower?”

  “Because, the Lord of the North is obsessed with the star flower. He asks Krot to plant them, and when the flowers are ready, Vargas sends his servants from his kingdom, far away, to come and get them, and then they send them to The Fallen One.

  Andrew looked at Ivory curiously. “Who is this Fallen One, so many speak of?”

  Ivory lowered her voice, and her eyes gleamed in fear. “The dark one who devours all light.”

  Andrew still wasn’t satisfied. “What do you mean?”

  “Shh, we shan’t speak of him here.”

  Andrew ignored Ivory’s command. “It strange to me that something dark loves something so light. I don't think I've ever seen such a flower before. I wonder why this Fallen One would want so many.” The flowers were so bright it made Andrew's eyes hurt. He bent down and touched one of the white petals, but at his touch, the flower wilted and went ghastly brown.

  “Did I do that?” Andrew asked, swiftly withdrawing his hand. “Ivory, please say that I didn’t.”

  “It must be thirsty,” Ivory said, looking unconcerned as she turned away. “We better get to work. Here, plant these, and I'll go fetch some water.”

  She handed Andrew a bag of seeds. “We must plant them all before the sun sets, or Krot will be extremely angry with us.”

  Andrew took the seeds and went to work, glad to be in his element again. He felt a tingle of pleasure run through his arms as he held the seeds. He'd never heard of the starflower before. He had never seen such strange seeds. They were pale white and were sh
aped like their name.

  While he planted the seeds, he smiled sadly, as he thought of his home, almost forgetting that Ivory was there. He thought of how good the earth felt, and how nice the sun was on his back. So preoccupied was he, that he didn't even notice that almost every seed he planted turned to powder the second it touched the earth.

  Andrew and Ivory worked until all the seeds had been planted, only stopping to rest after the sun was high in the sky.

  “I see dat you are done,” Krot said, coming up to them and frowning. “Dat is good.”

  “If it's so good,” Ivory asked. “then why don’t you look happier?”

  “Because, dere vill always be more to plant.”

  “That is true,” Ivory agreed. “But we can be happy, right now, even if we must do the same thing a hundred times, can’t we?”

  “Doing the same ting, over and over,” Krot retorted, “does not bring a gardener joy. I'm so sick of dose flowers---I'd give anyting, anyting to plant weeds, just for a change of scenery! Ah, vell, here, eat your lunch, and after you're done, trim da hedges.”

  He set out a lunch of honeyed bread, and a thin ham slice, for each of them. While they ate, Andrew stared at the plot of ground they'd just planted, waiting for his seeds to come up, like they had always done when he'd finished planting at his home. But nothing happened---no small sprouts poked their heads up from the earth. He wondered why they were taking so long.