by J. D. Wilde
James utters his final words of thanks before the bullet penetrates his skull. His personal misery ending signals the beginning of Grace’s. She cannot stop crying. She drops to the ground and caresses his head as she sobs over him. He’s no longer struggling, no longer feeling any pain, but Grace is. I softly rub her shoulder. I do not know if it helping, but she isn’t yelling at me to stop or giving me a weird look. So I infer I can continue to do so.
After a while, she just stops. It is as if all she has to do is flip a switch, and she is no longer sad. I’m worried because I cannot begin to guess what she is going to do next. She stands up and turns to face me. There are marks on her face from where the tears had been allowed to freely run down, but fresh tears no longer fall. “Do you see this?” She asks as motions towards all the dead. “This was just one of those things! One!”
“Grace, I’m sorry-” but I cannot finish my apology. Grace does not want to hear it. She does not want my pity or meaningless apology; she wants a solution. Her body is shaking angrily, and she spitefully states that maybe the religious loon will get it now. I need Grace to talk to me here because I’m completely lost. I cannot help the situation if I don’t understand what is going on.
She stares at me in disbelief before shaking her head. “You’re serious aren’t you? You really do not know how fucked we all are?” She asks as she walks towards the center of the beach and performs a wide gesture as she circles back around to face me. “All of this, try multiplying by a few hundreds. My people are dying by the thousands! Her island has one? My nation is being infested with them! And, if all it takes to even the battlefield is some stupid green stone-” She either doesn’t finish her thought, or I don’t hear it. She’s running back towards the cave, and her scythe is ready cut things.
She’s about to take some of the green stone out of the cave. I cannot let her. If she takes some, Adira will most certainly not be willing to work with her. I chase her down and right when she’s about to slash into it, I cut her off from the side. My left hand manages to catch the middle of her scythe, and my right hand is touching the stone she’s trying to carve out.
She almost starts yelling at me. If it weren’t for the cave illuminating with a white light from all the stone, I am sure she would have. Instead she pulls her scythe back and looks around the cave. I take my hand off of the wall I was using as leverage, and the light slowly fades away until all of the stone is back to its normal hue.
“You use magic,” She states completely unfazed by what she just witnessed, “That explains why your arrows could pierce through the devilin so easily. Most of the time they just bounce off; don’t even leave a scratch.”
“You use magic, too,” I say confidently. “A scythe isn’t exactly a protocol weapon even here, no?”
She shakes her head and places her hand on the cave wall, “Yes, but my magic is different.”
All of the stones turn completely black. If we were actually inside the cave, it would be impossible to see our hands right in front of our faces. Admittedly, most people would have probably been afraid. However, I find some level of comfort in it. This is not bad nor evil, just different. I need to know what this rock is. Not only is it the center of Grace’s and Adira’s fighting, but it is also effective against the dark creatures Sethos is sending to attack.
Graces says she doesn’t know exactly what it is, but she confirms it greatly weakens the devilins and other dark forces in battle. The stone was discovered by her people when a single devilin attacked one of her nation’s smaller towns. Nearly everyone died, but a few survivors were found. They claimed they lived because a man wearing the necklace made of green stone had fought and killed the devilin demolishing his house. The man himself was later questioned and claimed he bought the necklace in Oriare from a vendor who said the stone came from Briza.
“So why not start looking for the vendor in Oriare?” I ask. Jo’s country being mentioned by Grace cannot be a coincidence. Jo’s country is submerged in corruption, and she had been working hard trying to end it before mindlessly running to her death.
“Oriare is on lockdown. No one from outside the country can get in. The selfish pricks are trying to ignore the world’s plight as long as they can,” Grace explains. “Rather than start another war, my general ordered me and my crew straight to Briza on that information alone. That’s how desperate we are,” Grace breaks eye contact with me and looks back outside towards the beach. “You know,” she says so faintly I can barely hear, “I don’t think I’ve ever shown anyone that, and they not freak out at least a little.”
Grace is back on turning the natural green rock black. I don’t really know how to explain it at this point. If I mention she is Death’s child, she might block me out again. “You’re my sister,” is all I can really I say, and I hope it is enough to at least get us started on talking about the subject. If her country is infested with these creatures called devilins, then we really need to start focusing our energy on the task at hand. Sethos is much closer to taking over the world than I thought.
Chapter 7
Grace looks at me for a long time after I again tell her she is my sister, and I mean she really looks at me. Then, for the first time since we’ve met, I see her form just the slightest of smiles. It is not much. I don’t expect it to be. We have just witnessed a horrific scene, where she clearly lost somebody she cared deeply for. The tips of her lips curve up only a bit, and it is an odd sight. The bottom half of her face appears amused, but the top half is clearly despaired.
As confusing as it is for me to evaluate, it is something and enough for me to know she believes me. She offers to hear my story about us supposedly being sisters, but only if I can talk and work at the same time. She wants to tend to her fallen soldiers while there is a moment of peace.
I nod my head in agreeance to her terms. We should tend to the fallen while we can. Their bodies deserve to rest easy. We head back to the beach and spend the next hour or so finding all of Grace’s men, women, and wolves. A few of the members who had been aboard the ship have made it to shore, and they help us in identifying some of the remains so they can be sorted properly.
As I help them find and wrap their friends in some of the sheets the others brought with them ashore, I’m explaining to Grace everything I know. Well, almost everything. I’m leaving the part about me being chosen as the anchor and collecting the knowledge of our dead sisters out of this story.
Now just isn’t the time. If Grace feels even a tiny bit threatened, she’ll turn on me in an instant. That being said, I do explain to her the majority of it. I tell her about the grand dragons, about Sethos, about a need for balance to keep the world functioning. I tell her about our history, our purpose, and our other sister, Adira.
Grace is listening as we continue to wrap the bodies up and put them on the small boat the others used to get to shore, but it’s evident she thinks I should be locked away somewhere. At first she doesn’t believe my story, and by the time I’m done, it is clear she does not want to. But I noticed as I progressed and told her more, she became more convinced. By the end I’m sure she does believe me because deep down inside of her she knows it is the truth. She can sense it.
We get the last body onboard, and Grace orders one of her people to take them back. A smaller, skinnier man hops aboard the small boat with the dead, and pulls a lever. Steam is released from the back as a motor that had been idle comes roaring back on. He gives one final nod to his captain before setting off. Grace then orders the two others to move the indigenous people and wrap them, so the scavenger animals will not be able to feast on their carcasses.
When the two others leave, she returns her attention to me. “You are crazier than the religious nut of the jungle people,” she says, “but if you can help my country, my people, I might be willing to give this a shot.”
Finally! I finally broke through to one them. I did not expect it to be Grace first, but I am relieved. Convincing Grace to work with Adira has to be h
arder than convincing Adira to work with Grace.
“There’s just one problem,” Grace says. “There is no way, the leader of the jungle people is going to leave the island.”
I groan because Grace is absolutely right. Convincing Adira to leave her people is no small task. This is the first time Adira and her people have had to fight devilins, and only one was needed to obliterate a decent amount of her warriors. In fact, now that I’m thinking about it, getting Adira to leave her home might be next to impossible because she will not only be leaving but coming along a journey with Grace. And because Grace has a tendency to insult Adira and her religion with exceptional ease, I might as well try my luck just politely asking Sethos to stop trying to destroy the world. There is no way my two sisters are going to fight alongside one another and trust the other to have her back.
I shake my head and pull myself out of my negative thoughts. I need to stay positive. I need to believe we can do this together. If I do not, Grace and Adira certainly won’t. I ask Grace if she has any ideas on what we can do to convince Adira to leave, but her answer is not only less than stellar, it is actually downright unacceptable. Kidnapping is not a solution no matter how much she tries to argue with me it is, and we certainly are not going to break into our sister’s home, drug her, bind her, and carry her off with us into the night unwillingly. We have to be able to work together as a team. Kidnapping is not going to make that happen.
Grace and I are forced to stop bickering over the dumbest plan that I will never allow to happen when we hear one of her people shout “Captain!” The people of Briza are beginning to enter the beach. Grace’s two men who had been wrapping the bodies have stopped and slowly backed away towards us. So far no arrows have started flying, so I think it is safe to assume these people did not come for a fight. The fact none of them are carrying any weapons further supports this.
Adira comes forward at the top of the cliff and looks down to see the four of us moving closer towards the water. When I see Adira, I instinctively start to walk towards her and the beach instead, but Grace grabs my arm. “Now isn’t the time, Lux,” she explains, “They came to mourn. The least we can do is give them this evening.”
A blaring horn from behind us goes off, and we see the small boat has come back to get us. Grace offers me a bed on her ship for the night, and I agree. It is not like there is anywhere else I can go. Grace says we can speak with Adira tomorrow, but for this one night, we should let them do what they need to. Once aboard Grace shows me to the crew’s quarters. When we arrive at one of the bedrooms, I am pleasantly surprised to see it is a decent size especially for a ship. Two beds are stacked on top of each other at either side of the wall, and this allows enough space for a couple of people to stand in between without hitting each other in the back.
The room she put me in is an empty cabin, and I realize the reason why after I settle in is because all four of the people that had been in this room are now wrapped in sheets in the bottom decks. Their stuff is packed inside the cupboards and drawers, and there are a few photos on the dresser built into the back of the room. I wish I had not looked at them. They were all happy pictures with friends and family. Photos of people they loved, people they wanted to protect. Now all four of those soldiers are gone. Our lives are so fragile down here. Those four soldiers woke up this morning and had no idea they were going to die. Tomorrow, if Adira does not cooperate, she might die. Or Grace. Or me.
I’m starting to freak myself out. I crawl into one of their beds and attempt to turn my mind off. The bed is soft, but I still cannot get comfortable. I’m nervous, sad, worried. There are a lot of emotions, and none of them are good. I hope Adira listens and understands. If she doesn’t, death of at least one of us cannot be avoided.
Chapter 8
I am completely drained. My body feels like it is made entirely out of heavy metal, but it is impossible for me to fall asleep. I keep looking at the smiling faces filled with joy in the pictures. I turn away to face the wall and shut my eyes, but somehow I always find myself turned back around staring at them. I have no idea how long I’ve just lied here or what time it is, but I cannot take it any longer. My mind is begging my body to let me escape this room. I quietly get dressed and equip all of the armalos. Then I open the door and make my way back up to the ship’s deck.
I’m greeted with the faint glow of the sunrise. Warmth begins to embrace my cheeks, and I feel a bit better. It feels nice outside as the salty air breezes within the cove. The ship’s deck is large and currently empty.
While there was someone in the crow’s nest last night when I arrived, I have no idea if he is still there. I walk to the front of the ship to think about what occurred last night only to discover I’m not the only one awake. Grace is casually sitting on top the edge of the railing and beginning of the massive wolf figurehead. Her scythe leans against the railing next to her, and she has one leg casually dangling over the edge. Her arms rest against her knees, and her entire back faces me. She is completely focused on the island. So much so that I do not think she knows I have approached her yet.
When I softly tap her shoulder, she turns to look at me, and I can tell she did not sleep well either. “Looks like we’ve all had a rough night,” she greets.
“All?” I turn around to see who else she is referring to, but it is just us.
“I know my crew. Just because they aren’t here doesn’t mean they can hide it from me. No one slept last night,” Grace explains.
“How are they managing?” I ask. I haven’t met any of them personally yet, but the people from yesterday seemed nice enough.
Grace turns away from me without answering. She starts to lightly bang her head on her knee before she rests it there for a little while. She doesn’t know. She is trying to protect them, but every time they do something her men get stuck in the crossfire. All any of them have experienced in a long time is death. Many have lost their families and friends already, and those that have not worry every day they will. It’s demoralizing to hear. This world is in much worse shape than I thought it would be.
Grace says this was supposed to be the first step in freeing her country. The easy step. She was ordered to come and buy the stone from the people of Briza, but they refused to sell it. When Grace asked why, Adira told her the stone is sacred and cannot be removed from the island.
A fight broke out for the right to use the stone. Grace says she is all for letting religious people preach there crazy, but when it starts interfering with the lives of others who have nothing to do with them, she has to draw the line. After being gone only a week, her country’s state had already deteriorated. This stone can save people if she found a way to get it off the island, simple as that. These islanders are willing to stand idly by while the rest of the world bleeds to protect something as immaterial as a rock. She cannot respect them nor their beliefs if that is their position.
Grace is staring daggers my way, and she states although she is willing to try just about anything to save her country, she will destroy me and everything I care about if I am lying to her. Something needs to change and quickly, or she risks no longer having a place to go home to. Her eyes become completely black pupil, iris and even sclera as she threatens me but I’ve been around Mors for so long it doesn’t bother me. If she did this to some of her crew though, I can definitely see them pissing themselves a little.
Apparently it amuses her to see I am not afraid. She seems almost proud as she begins to ramble on about how her sister wouldn’t be afraid of such a trivial thing.
“I’m not lying,” I tell her.
“I get that feeling which is insane because, well it is insane,” Grace admits, and I agree. Just because it is true, doesn’t mean it makes sense. I want to respond, but one of her crew members has walked up to her asking for orders. Grace tells him the entire crew is to spend the day getting ready to depart. Only she and I are going to go to shore.
He looks at me suspiciously as he listens to her. He is confus
ed and conflicted by her orders, but nevertheless agrees to inform in the others. After he leaves, Grace mentions we should probably eat something before heading to the village. As if on cue, my stomach rumbles in agreeance. I have spent a full day running around here without a single morsel to eat and am famished.
The mess hall is one level down and can easily and comfortably seat everyone on this ship and then some. The aroma coming from the kitchen is so delightful, it makes my mouth water instantly. The food is served cafeteria style, and all of the choices are overwhelming. The cook is offering me things from stacks of pastries, baked goods, fruits, meat, and other food items I don’t even know.
There are too many selections for me to make a decision, but there is one thing I have always wanted to try, stripped hog belly. It was one of Jo’s favorites, and she made is sound like nothing else in the world compares. The chef tries to get me to say something else, but I honestly don’t know what else I want. I know what some of this stuff is, but I’ve never personally had it. There is no way to tell what I will and will not like.
Grace gets tired of waiting and tells the cook, who has been so patient with me he might be made into a saint, to make a second plate of what she gets only with hog belly instead of sausage. We then sit down and start to eat.
I have taken three bites, and I'm already sure I have found the most amazing and delightful substance in this world, food. I have gone my entire life without any need for this stuff, and after one meal, I cannot imagine ever living without it again. How did we not have this stuff in the Otherworld?
I’m eating so fast Grace tells me to slow down, but I ignore her. I’ve gotten to the hog, and it is even better than Jo made it seem. Grace smiles as she watches me and calmly eats her own breakfast. I look like a gluttonous savage compared to her, but I’m too content to care. When we are finished, we place our plates on a long counter for the dishwashers to grab later and head out.
