by LJ Andrews
“I’m sorry Mercedes. All you’ve ever been was kind to me and look at what I’ve done to you.” Killian leaned forward and gave her forehead a small kiss. In the corner, there was a steel bin full of fluffy gray towels. He rushed over and took several out; their fresh scent was intoxicating. Ignoring the urge to hug them to his face, he rinsed them in the large steel sink with warm water.
Slowly and gently he washed Mercedes’ face with the towels. The gray color turned a sick muddy orange from all the blood he washed off her soft, brown skin. Her cheeks were pink and looked fresh, although severely beaten when he’d finished her face. Rinsing another batch of towels, Killian gently wiped her hair that was caked with dried blood. He was careful to avoid the ugly suture material, but wiped the excess scabs around the healing salve. By tomorrow he hoped her deep gashes along her scalp would be nothing but shiny, taut lines.
Satisfied with her cleansing, he returned to the silver bins and removed a lilac scented tan blanket to cover her while she slept. Killian sat next to her and held her warm hand for several hours, he was content and relieved to just watch her chest fall and rise with each peaceful breath.
Before long his head bobbed to his chest, although he fought exhaustion, sleep eventually took over.
Killian’s mind drifted to a dim empty space. Taking in the cold surroundings his heart pounded against his chest as he locked eyes with a white-haired stranger in a billowing white robe. The man's eyes were a deep blue, with a terrifying madness tainting the vibrant color.
He was frozen under the man's gaze as the air around them swirled in: electric blues and oranges, pastel pinks and purples, and deep browns and grays.
“Killian.” His name echoed around him though he couldn’t pin point who had said it. The strange man's cheeks were flushed with windburn pegging him as a Glacien, and Killian saw strange red marks coming from the back of his neck. They looked like scars, but he couldn’t be sure. The usual peaceful demeanor of Glaciens was not present in his countenance. Suddenly the man lifted his hands out from his chest, and the dirt below their feet swirled furiously. The earth blinded Killian, and blocked his view of the curious stranger. All at once the earth stopped. The billowing dirt fluttered back to the silent ground. The wild man stood, untouched by the furious torrent of sand and dirt. In his hands were crude, jagged blades the color of rusted metal.
Killian's breath caught in his throat as the crazed man lifted the daggers above his head and threw them into the brilliant surrounding sky, straight at Killian's heart. He watched in fear as the weapons, forged from the dirt, sliced toward him, bringing death on their point.
As soon as the rusted tip hit his chest, he jerked up in the hard chair, finding he was safely back in the clinic. He wiped the perspiration from his forehead and tried to catch his breath from the upsetting dream.
“Killian,” the hoarse voice shook him upright. He looked at the gurney, Mercedes’ bright emerald eyes were gazing up at him.
“Mercedes! You’re awake…how are you feeling? Are you hurting?” Killian rambled rushing next to her again.
She squinted her eyes, and slowly brought a hand to her head. “My head is throbbing, I don’t know if I’m dreaming again, or if you’re real. I want to wake up!” She sobbed to herself.
Killian noted he was again stroking her hair. He pulled his hand back, unsure if she would appreciate his touch once she found out what had happened.
“Mercedes, I'm sorry. This isn't a dream, and neither was the last time we were together, you only thought that." Her piercing eyes cut through him, but she said nothing. Wiping a stray tear on her gashed cheek he continued. "What do you remember from this attack Mercedes?”
She grimaced as she struggled to recall how she’d again come to the Praetorium. “I remember laughing…awful, horrible laughing. My uncle locked me in my room then,” she paused as her eyes widened. “Scratching…at my door. I heard screams! Killian where are my aunt and uncle?” Her breathing was frantic. The ball of painful emotion lodged itself in his chest again. He hadn’t wanted to be the one to tell her. Perhaps it was justice. Perhaps he deserved to be the one to feel the guilt for his role in her pain. He knew she would hate him. If they had never met she wouldn’t have lost her only family.
“Mercedes…the scratching…” his voice caught in his throat. How could he tell her they were dead?
“Killian what?” her voice cracked as if she already knew.
“Creatures called Shadow Imps…attacked you and your family. Mercedes your aunt and uncle…”
“No.” She turned her face away and slowly sat on the edge of the table. “No, they can’t be gone.” She whispered under her breath more to herself than to Killian.
“Mercedes,” he said while hesitantly placing his hand on her shoulder. “I am so sorry. I wish—”
Before he could answer Mercedes wrapped her arms around his neck, despite the wires still monitoring her vitals, and sobbed. She cried for her aunt and uncle, she cried in pain, she cried in anger. Killian held her against his chest and let her cry. He clamped his eyes tight, trying to hold back the emotion as he thought of Shannon's warning of her condition. He pushed the thoughts away, grateful she was conscious and near him. He prayed inwardly that she would be fine and healthy, but he dreaded what the next few days could bring.
Chapter 7
The New Recruits
Mercedes went into cardiac arrest soon after she woke for the first time. Killian seemed to literally feel her pain, and it nearly destroyed him. Shannon was one of the swiftest physician's he'd ever seen. Immediately she was at her side with two nurses and had stabilized Mercedes in minutes.
To Killian's relief from that moment Mercedes seemed to be on the mend. When she regained consciousness again, Killian had made sure he was the first one by her side. It had been a week since her attack and she'd remained carefully monitored in the clinic. Finally, Shannon had cleared her earlier to be released. Killian had selfishly stolen quiet hours with Mercedes in her recovery room each night after he had attended lessons from realm school.
For the last few days, he'd studied the relics, learning how they worked and the power one would have if all four were ever joined. Each relic was seemingly ordinary in appearance, the relic from Glaciem was a simple green pearl, yet it could control minerals, water, and creatures. The Ignisian relic appeared to be a black stone with burning scars throughout the surface like a dying ember. It had the ability to create fire, remove heat or bring heat. It even had the power to extinguish suns. He knew about the Cimmerian relic, it was his after all. The Cimmerian relic provided protections. It allowed the user to create barriers around the object they wished to protect, but it also could affect the mind, creating hallucinations, or bending someone to the owner’s will. Killian imagined it would be frightening if the wrong person obtained the relic. His throat was dry imagining the Trinity holding such a powerful weapon. The instructors had run out of time before explaining about the Terrenian relic, but promised to explain it later through his training.
Killian hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary with his emotions since Mercedes had flat lined, but every now and again Connor would covertly ask him questions about his dreams, feelings and any other odd occurrences, then wall himself up in his lab for several days. Killian tried not to worry over the possibility something else had been embedded in Merlin's relic, but deep inside he knew there was more to the mystery then he'd yet uncovered.
His relationship with Mercedes developed into an easy friendship, once she was oriented with the fact the Praetorium was not a place from a nightmare. Mercedes was calm and caring and was the easiest person Killian had met and felt he could trust. She originally had great goals to be a Marine Biologist but of course, those dreams had changed. To Killian’s relief, she had never asked about his prison sentence. Most of the time he listened and steered the conversations back to her before they dug into the raw wounds of his past.
Mercedes had confided in Killian she
never wanted to return to Terrene. How could she? It would be too painful. At times, their conversations were difficult for Killian. They would be laughing and joking until something reminded Mercedes her family was dead. For a portion of their visits, it would be spent with Mercedes crying on his shoulder. It had not been so many days since Killian was alone, angry, imprisoned and cut off from society. During these emotional moments, he gulped down his apprehensions and hoped he was comforting her in an appropriate way. A year in prison often made close contact uncomfortable.
Wringing his hands together, he waited in the hallway for Mercedes to come back. She’d been in a meeting with Nathaniel for over an hour. During that time, Miller and a woman with rosy cheeks and an exceptionally intricate white braid in her hair had entered the room, smiling swiftly at Killian. He stared at the glamorous carpet which was twisted with shimmering gold leaf thread—the upper hall of the Praetorium certainly had a regal atmosphere. Killian was growing anxious just as the solid gold knob twisted and the four people emerged. Nathaniel patted Mercedes’ hand.
“Ah, Killian,” Nathaniel said, “have you been waiting this whole time?”
“Yes, I…just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”
“It’s better than okay!” Mercedes shrieked. For the first time since she’d been attacked her face was painted in pure happiness. The shadow of grief had erased, for the moment. “Forget marine biologist I’m going to be a…a… Beastian!” She said finally remembering the odd term.
Killian chuckled at her excitement. “A what?”
“Cora,” Nathaniel began, “is taking charge of our dear Mercedes. She is the director of the Beastian department in the Praetorium. Our Beasties, as we call them, are the absolute experts on all creatures in the Hemisphere. When the Malumians attacked you, Beasties went out to survey the scene. They help train our Custodis before jumps on how to handle creatures and defend themselves. There are incredible creatures in each realm, not just Grizzlies and mountain lions. Miss Forino has agreed to the charge, and I feel she’ll be a delightful addition.”
“I agree,” Cora whispered.
“Wow, that sounds cool. You get to work with animals after all,” Killian said.
“Not just animals—monsters! Cora showed me some images on this awesome light bulb screen…thing…anyway there are some incredible, unbelievable creatures out there,” said Mercedes with excitement.
“Mercedes has promised she will follow Cora’s orders and not seek out certain creatures. Miss Forino assured us she is not on a revenge mission,” Miller chimed in soberly.
Mercedes nodded slowly, a bit of the grief apparent in her countenance again. Killian felt agitated with Miller. He wasn’t the one in charge of whether she stayed, but it almost seemed as if he’d rather she return back home.
“Yes, of course, she will listen to Cora,” Nathaniel said, briefly rolling his eyes away from his Regent. Killian chuckled at the difference in their personalities. “Killian I’m actually glad you’re here. Since you passed through realm school, it’s time for you to begin your recruit training and hopefully Custodis training. Cora will be taking Miss Forino’s time this afternoon and you will be heading down to the training center. Aidan will be waiting for you.” The older man smiled at him, obviously excited for him to begin.
Killian’s stomach knotted. He knew he would be trained in weapons and fighting, but now that it was here he was suddenly nervous. Mercedes stepped next to him and gave his hand an excited squeeze before walking toward the elevator car Cora had opened.
“Am I supposed to leave now?” Killian asked once Mercedes had disappeared behind the wall.
“Yes. The sooner the better. Aidan will observe you today and let us know if you are a Custodis. You’ll also receive your recruit clothing.”
Killian looked down at his baggy gray pants. The material was light and airy. The tan shirts were not exceptional looking, but just like the blankets in the clinic, they always smelled of fresh forest flowers. He had never seen anyone pick up his laundry, but each day the bin was emptied with fresh, folded clothes returned to the drawers. He mentally noted to ask where the dirty clothes went.
A few minutes later he wandered on the cool fifth floor again. This time passing the classroom, he nervously pushed against the double doors of the recruit training center. The doors easily gave against his weight, brushing along the steel floor. The training center was astronomical in size, with incredible training materials that would amaze even the greatest athletes. Killian looked from the floor to the ceiling in awe. The room was bustling and busy, full of different races of Ponderi recruits. Seeing so many people from the different races in one setting was quite a sight. The calm, white-haired Glaciens were quite the contrast standing next to their tan-skinned, vibrant, eccentric Ignisian counterparts. He watched as the dark Cimmerians raced gracefully around in the different sections of the unbelievable room. Each Cimmerian wore a pair of glasses on their eyes. The lenses were dimmed, but not completely black and the rims were thin, looking like the glasses would break if they were hit too hard.
Each section was divided by large glass walls. Walking by the first glass room, he saw clouds of breath coming from what he assumed were recruits. The glass walls were dusted top to bottom with a thin layer of frost. In the center of the pool, a long line of anchored white cylinders bobbed along in the freezing water. Killian watched as a small group of recruits began inching their way across a large pool. Small chunks of ice floated throughout the water. A black rope was suspended above the cylinders and recruits were making their way slow and careful from platform to platform.
Killian watched as one small, auburn-haired recruit stumbled and nearly fell from the cylindrical platform; quickly reacting she grasped the rope overhead to save her the pain of falling into the freezing water. Killian jumped when a loud siren sounded. A large man with tan arms, bright blue hair, dressed in a black wetsuit came over to the recruits from the far corner. Killian listened to him shout something at the dangling girl—the glass muffled the voices so he couldn't make out what was said.
He grimaced as the young girl reluctantly let go and landed into the painful, icy water with a splash. The girl surfaced, her face contorted in agony. She treaded the water for several moments as the other recruits passed her by on the safety of their floating platforms. Killian watched anxiously until the final recruit passed the freezing girl and she was finally allowed to climb back onto her cylinder.
The girl's long ponytail already looked like it had a layer of frost encasing it. Watching the young recruit, he stood feeling melancholy as his thoughts drifted to Mercedes. The recruit had an uncanny resemblance to her. Killian silently reprimanded himself for spending so much time wondering if Mercedes thought of him as well. Shaking his head, he brought his thoughts back to the training facility and continued walking. The Ponderi seemed vicious and painful in their training methods.
The next glass room was full of multiple rock walls with gray suited recruits decorating the many sides. The walls seemed less intense than the ice pool, until Killian saw the solid wall full of black lava rock shift, without warning, into cold chunks of rock and ice. The recruit who had been climbing stumbled for only a moment before grasping tightly to the new set of rocks and continuing his climb.
The neighboring wall was undergoing similar surprising shifts. A rocky glacier suddenly fell into complete darkness, the only light came from small bulbs attached to the recruit's belt. The small beams indicated the man was continuing his climb slowly and carefully in the darkness. Other walls were ruby red sandstone—another, full of pines and boulders. It was easy to gather the ever-changing climbing walls represented different terrain on each realm.
Across the large hallway between the glass boxes, Killian saw a field dotted in gray uniforms. Recruits were dueling with one another with long, double bladed spears. Others had long daggers and knives. Killian watched two young women join in intimate combat with the sharp weapons. The girls
crouched and lunged aiming at their opponent in fury.
Further back on the field, Ponderi recruits were throwing all manner of dangerous weapons at odd shaped targets; he was amazed at the distance these people could accurately throw such weapons. If Nathaniel thought he was going to be able to roll along with the skill these recruits had, he’d be sorely disappointed.
Across the field in a distant corner, recruits were aiming sleek crossbows; the same he had seen Blake use to kill the Malumian wolves. Killian recognized the current shooter as Dax. He shot a series of arrows with perfect grouping on the target—all fatal shots if the cloth target had been a live victim.
"HEY!" a gruff, angry voice yelled from behind. "Only recruits down here, what are you doing?" Turning Killian saw a short stalky man dressed in tight fitting gray pants coming toward him. His bare chest was tan with a long chain around his neck. Killian was mesmerized by the charm on the end. It had flames sputtering and flickering, trapped in a crystal prison. The man had bright flames glowing behind his brown eyes and his bright orange hair was impossible not to stare at.
"Can you hear? Only recruits down here!" he shouted again as he came nose to nose with Killian.
"I... I was sent by Nathaniel. My name is Killian Thomas," he stuttered.
"Ah, so you’re the new recruit,” he said looking over the orders that had beeped to life on a small translucent tablet in his pocket. Squaring his shoulders, he quickly crossed his fist over his taut chest, just as Dax had when they met. “I actually had been told earlier you may be coming from Blake. I am Aidan. I am the director of the recruiting office. Come and speak with me for a moment before we set you to work."
Aidan swiftly turned on his heel and began walking back the same direction Killian had come from. Killian followed him back toward the main doors. As he made his way passed the ice pool, he noticed the freezing recruit that had been forced to tread the icy water stood shuddering in a thin gray towel. The instructor stood over her pointing at the rope then the water in an apparent reprimand for her mistake.
