by Brindi Quinn
I fought the urge to groan.
Am I feeling something like jealousy right now? But that doesn’t really make sense . . . I know what their relationship is, and I know he should be eager for her to wake up. After all, I myself am eager for her to wake up, but there’s just something more in his eyes right now for her. Like an urgency fueled by passion.
But I would have to wait one more day to confirm my suspicions.
~
Once back at the site of the prophecy, the sky was lit to early morning blue. The stack of large crystals that had once stood high, were now just a pile atop the collapsed cavern that had led to the Inscription of Ulan. I shivered in remembrance of the sing-song taunting of The Mystress, and for a moment I swore I could hear its echoes from within, though it was just the work of a tired imagination.
“Well, we’re here, Darch, so what kind of magical things are you going to do?” Kantú chittered excitedly.
Equally excited, Darch pushed up the sleeves of his cloak. “Watch this!”
“Refrain from blowing anything up, would you?”
“Please, Miss Heart, stand behind me.” Scardo shuffled nervously before me.
Ever since awakening, the Yes’lechian hadn’t left my side. In fact, he was at least two times more worried and protective than usual, and by his standards, that was saying something. I only hoped it would fizzle once the novelty of ‘me’ wore off.
“I’m fine.”
Darch placed his hands against a large crystal on the outskirts of the glittering boulder mountain.
“Alright, so I’m going to call to the guardian spirit of the Inscription. I’m sure it’s hanging around here somewhere. But once it’s out, we all have to step back and keep quiet. Please, please, please, not a peep out of anyone, no matter what happens, okay, guys? Aura’s supposed to do this alone, and if the guardian hears us, it might try to pull Aura to the Inscription’s original location!”
“Wait! You mean into that rubble?!” asked Nyte, voice panicked.
Darch nodded and straightened up, releasing his grip on the crystal. “Yes. The spirit has been given one purpose and one order, and while it’s all right to stray from the plan a little bit, if it thinks that outside sources are swaying Aura’s decision, it won’t hesitate to do something rash, even if the logic of it makes no sense to us.”
“Hear that, Kantoo? Ya can’t say anythin’ even if it looks like Aura’s in danger or somethin’.”
Kantú pretended to lock her mouth with an invisible key.
Danger? And then I remembered the words of the officers – might die – and it dawned on me.
This was it. This was the moment of truth. My judge of character. And should I fail, I’d die. Yet somehow, all the way to the site, I’d forgotten that one crucial detail. How could I come to terms with the fact that these could be my last moments? My final adventure? My life’s end?
I opened my mouth to say something, but closed it again. What can I say? There’s nothing, I guess.
“And keep that pet of yours under wraps, too,” said Ardette to Kantú, eyeing the bird distrustfully.
“Actually, it’s not her I’m worried about.” Darch tapped the edges of his glasses with his pointer fingers. “It’s you two that are most likely to cause issues.” He abruptly snapped his fingers down so that they were pointing at Ardette and Nyte.
Ardette scoffed, “As if I’d do anything.”
But Nyte’s reaction was far different. He nearly dropped Rend. “You cannot expect me to keep still if she is endangered! I will not make such an agreement!”
“Then Grotts will restrain you,” said Scardo sternly. He tipped his head respectfully at Darch. Even though he’d apologized to Nyte just hours earlier, it was clear that anyone who threatened to disrupt such a sacred ritual of Yes’lech would be deemed restraint-worthy by Scardo no matter what formalities might be injured in the process.
Nyte shot Grotts a look of dare. And to think he was reacting like that when he didn’t even know the full gravity of the situation . . .
Might die.
For this reason, I was glad I’d never admitted to Kantú and Nyte that the ‘great test’ might very well end in death, and though I didn’t have any plans to reveal that tidbit to them now, I worried that Grotts and Scardo’s noticeable shift in demeanor would give the situation away.
The two of them were looking anywhere but at each other, obviously frazzled and uncomfortable. I knew they would refrain from becoming emotional or saying any goodbyes, for fear of setting off a catastrophe, but they both appeared to be holding themselves back and that unspoken tension was nearly unbearable.
“Please Nyte,” I said calmly. But in my head I was still struggling to grasp concept of dying. “I promise I’ll be fine. I have to do this, so no matter what happens, just do what they say, okay?”
“But Aura!”
That look from him squeezed my chest. I couldn’t even hug him or anything. If I was going to die, it would be without saying goodbye. That was maybe the most unbearable part of it all.
No. I’m going to do it. I won’t die. Really, though, it was more like ‘can’t’. I can’t give myself the option of failure because it’s not just me. It isn’t just my life at stake. It’s his too. It’s all of theirs.
“Give him this for me, will you Kantú?” I said.
“Hm?” she inched close to me and held out her palm.
But I instead pecked her on the cheek with a light kiss.
“Alright!” Kantú gave me a thumbs up.
Nyte was openly embarrassed, but I didn’t care. Before he could protest, Kantú bounded over, pulled him down to her level, and planted one on his cheek.
“Er- Miss Havoc?”
If only it could be a real kiss. But this is all we can manage at the moment, isn’t it?
“I love you.” But my voice faltered a little bit at the end when I realized it could be the last time I’d ever tell him.
“I love you as well.” His voice was quiet, pained.
Please don’t let him reach any understanding. Please Creator, keep him from realizing. Please keep both of them from realizing.
I looked at Kantú, but thankfully, she wasn’t in danger of realizing anything, happily running her tail through her fingertips.
“My, my, my, my . . .” said Ardette suddenly, voice trailing off.
I turned to see him awkwardly hunched forward, with Grotts’ firm hand planted on his shoulder as a hold of warning.
I nearly choked.
Ardette knew. He knew and he had those feelings for me, and I couldn’t say anything. And he couldn’t say anything. And it was horrible.
“My,” he said again.
My stomach dropped so suddenly that it hurt.
I didn’t want to see that pain that was encroaching on the corners of his eyes. If only he could be lost in sweet ignorance like Nyte! This might be the last time I’d be able to see him too, but if I did anything, then Nyte and Kantú would definitely suspect that something was wrong!
But he was looking at me, and Darch and Grotts were looking away with strained gazes of knowing.
“A-Ardette?”
“My, my, my cherry pit, whatever could it be?” His irises were darkening.
“Er, will you just make sure there’s no, um, shadow remnants left in me? I just want to be completely cleared out before I meet the guardian so I don’t get distracted or cloudy or anything.”
Guilt. Was I doing it for Ardette or for myself? I was selfish and it was a lie and it was an excuse to touch him one last time. Even if my craving for the feeling of someone else’s skin against mine was partially due to the fact that I couldn’t touch Nyte, it was still unforgiveable and wrong.
“Hmpf, if I must.” But though the words were indifferent, Ardette’s irises lightened, and his pupils grew.
Grotts squeezed his shoulder before releasing him.
What am I doing?! This is no substitute! Ardette deserves more than to be a substitute!
&n
bsp; But you do care for him too, right?
Yes, but it’s so unfair and selfish and . . .
But you are willing to die to try saving the world, right? So you deserve at least a little indulgence, don’t you?
But I didn’t even know which voice was mine anymore and which voice was temptation. It was becoming hard to tell them apart.
And then Ardette was next to me.
“Do not try anything perverted, Daem,” said Nyte, his voice thick with warning.
The guilt kicked.
“Yeah, you Pervy Irving!” chimed Kantú.
Ardette placed his cool hand at my cheek, though he usually entered from the top when he was about to go rummaging through my head. He held it there and stared down at me, and the small something screamed louder than it ever had before. My chest was filled with the pounding of my own heart, and even if it was for the wrong reason, as a replacement, it still felt incredibly good to feel the emotion behind his touch.
“Ahem.” Grotts cleared his throat to move along what was surely becoming a suspiciously long encounter.
Ardette rolled his eyes and plunged his hand in.
I closed my eyes and let the shadow spread.
This is wrong. This is so wrong. I’m using him.
“It’s all right,” mumbled Ardette under his breath. “I don’t mind, if it means easing you a little.”
Uh! . . . Oh, that’s right. You can hear in here.
Ardette coughed.
Sorry. I know it’s wrong, but I did something like this anyways. I really don’t mean to play with your emotions. It was selfish and-
“Stop,” he mumbled.
But- I sighed. Thank you. You’re a good friend. And I do feel better . . . though I’m still a little afraid.
It was then that Ardette drew his shadow out of me. I could feel its cool fogginess escaping my skull.
I opened my eyes.
He placed his hand on the top of my head and raised his voice so that the others could hear too.
“There is nothing to fear,” he said. He stared down at me with kind eyes, pausing for a moment before adding, “That is, you’re clear of shadow . . . for now.”
He then grabbed a lock of my hair and brought it to his nose, letting it slide and fall silkily through his fingers while he walked away.
“Ah, thanks.”
“It took him long enough, did it not?” said Nyte, suspiciously studying Ardette’s fleeting back. “He did not do anything to you in there, did he?”
“No,” was all I could say. If I said anything more, I was sure to let the forming tears out, and that would only cause unnecessary pain.
“Alright. Everyone ready?” asked Darch, his voice glum for once.
I nodded and then turned back for one last look at the forest eyes of my captor, so enigmatic and endearing, but my throat caught when I saw their confused and hurt undertones.
My Nyte. How I yearn to hold you. But please, Creator, help me keep it together, and please keep him from knowing the true risk involved.
Darch placed his pinky against the crystal and tapped it three times.
Chapter 8: The Test
From within the pile came a light whistling.
Darch turned to me, nodded, and then stepped away, rejoining the others, who were all waiting a short distance back.
The whistling picked up until something started to move in the space ahead of me. I didn’t blink, but my eyes went blind for an instant. When sight returned, there was someone standing on the ground before me.
It was a spirit?
No, it was a . . . boy. A darling, long-haired boy of three quarters of a decade, wearing nothing but frayed shorts, and he looked solid . . . real . . . alive?
Was this what spirits normally looked like? I’d always envisioned them wispy; not quite there.
This isn’t a spirit, is it? The guardian is something else. But what?
I turned to ask the others, but there was now no one else around. No boulders either. Just lonely, scentless grayness. Grayness, the boy, and I were all that existed within the space. The rest of the world was gone, but I didn’t feel afraid.
“What happened to the others?” I asked myself. The grayness capped my voice so that it held no echo – like my voice was lost or absorbed but never returned back to me. For some reason, that mutedness made me feel exceedingly disoriented.
The boy spoke and his voice was stable – very much there, and not at all the haunting whisper I’d thought a spirit would possess.
“They are there,” he said, “but you cannot see them. It is forbidden for you to have contact during the test, Heart.”
“Oh! Right,” I said, feeling rude for not acknowledging the boy before questioning my surroundings. “Are you the guardian of the Inscription?”
The boy settled onto the ground and hugged his knees. Somehow, he seemed sad, but was that possible? Could guardian spirits feel fleeting emotions such as sadness? This wasn’t at all what I’d expected.
“I am the guardian of Ulan,” he said. “What is it you wish to ask?”
To ask?
“My name is Aura Telmacha Rosh, and I have come to retrieve the prophecy.”
Shaking his head, the boy reached for his toes. He fiddled with them a bit and then said,
“The prophecy has been lost, crumbled with the guardian mirrors. Only those holding the power of magic can see the mirrors, but they have all shattered, forever blocking the portal to the prophecy.” His voice was now slightly snide.
“Forever blocking? But- but that’ can’t be!” Out of frustration, I took a step closer to the boy, but he didn’t seem to grow any nearer.
Huh?
I took another step, but the result was the same; the grayness filled in whatever space was left between us, tirelessly keeping that gap even. Moving forward without getting anywhere only furthered my disoriented feeling, so I gave up and asked,
“Are you saying that it’s really futile, then? That it’s too late to retrieve the song?”
He wiggled his toes.
“I did not say that. The Inscription of Ulan has been lost, and consequently, the prophecy has been lost. Nonetheless, you may still perform your test, Heart.”
“But doesn’t the prophecy need to be read from the Inscription of Ulan to release the Song?”
“No, you must only complete the test to gain the Song.”
“All right then. What is the test?”
Might die. Thousands killed. But I pushed the thoughts away. I’d grown accustomed to treating troublesome realities that way.
“That is the question you have come to ask, and the answer is simple.” The boy slumped lower and rested his chin on his knees. “To gain the Song, you need only kill me with your own two hands.” This time he wiggled his fingers to demonstrate how ‘simple’ it was.
Without thinking and in horror, I took a step back, but again the movement was lost to the grayness.
“Kill you!?” I asked. “But aren’t you supposed to be a spirit?”
But his next comment confirmed my earlier suspicions.
“I am not a spirit.” The boy’s snideness was gone. “I am an eternal Sape, forever charged the task of watching over the Inscription. For this purpose, I have gained the powers of a spirit, but I am tired of talking about that. You see, I have been waiting a long time for you to come and kill me. So please, kill me now. That is your test.” He yawned. “If you fail, you will surely die.”
At this, I grew even more horrified. He was alive. I had to kill this peculiar-but-cute child with my own hands? I tried to picture myself doing such a thing. With my own hands, wrapped around his sad, little neck . . . There was no way I was capable of it!
My heart pounded at the knowing that this was one test I was sure to fail.
Might die. Might die. Might die.
“N-no!” I stammered. “I can’t do something like that! You say you’ve been eternally charged? Does that mean you’ve been eternally stuck inside of t
his thing?! That sounds horrible! Not to mention really, really boring. Why don’t you come with us? We’ll find another way, so that you won’t have to suffer here anymore!”
The boy gave me a woeful glance. “I cannot leave, so I will ask you once more. You must kill me to gain the Song. Would you really choose the life of one over the lives of many?”
“Wait! There’s got to be another way!”
Ugh! This sort of debate? Why does it have to be something like this?
During ethics training, Miss Danice had raised a similar discussion, but I’d always sided with the idea that one life was just as valuable as the lives of hundreds and that every life should be protected and cherished. Laria Lynn and the others had made it a point to tell me how stupid I was for thinking that way, saying I should ‘get real’ and quit pretending to be ‘noble’, but that was really how I felt. What was the point of saving many if one was lost? Life was life, wasn’t it? Weren’t all lives equally of value?
Maybe I should have chosen ‘the many’, for sure most would have agreed with that way of thinking, yet with everything inside of me, I couldn’t kill the boy. I was willing to sacrifice myself to save the world, but I wasn’t willing to sacrifice another. That would make me no better than The Mystress!
“How about ‘the lives of all’?” I asked hopefully. “Is that an option?”
“Do you wish to die?” asked the boy.
“Of course I don’t wish to die. There are people that I love waiting for me, and I’m afraid to die. But you must be afraid to die too. Even if you’re a guardian, you’re still a living thing! Even if I am the Pure Heart or whatever, that doesn’t make me a murderer!”
The boy tilted his head to the side. “But you wish to murder the other Heart, how is that any different?”
“Eh-” His argument wasn’t something I was prepared for, nor was it something I’d really given thought, so I just spoke from the heart, unsure of what message my own words would carry. “It is true that I hate The Mystress. She’s despicable, selfish, and invidious in my eyes, but even so, when it comes down to it, I won’t just kill her. That isn’t my purpose or my will. I’m a songstress, so . . . I’ll defeat her with the Song of Salvation!”
