Book of Dark #1: Always Stand Up

by Deepak Khanchandani

  Chapter 9

  Kenid Akhnayram

  Well this is new, thinks Keane, as the trail of light sweeps past his blurred vision.

  He soon sees the butterfly shedding the stream of iridescent dust, its large wings flapping against the breeze with vigor in a valiant attempt to flee its pursuer.

  Next comes the hazy figure of its chaser. Squinting hard, Keane recognizes it as the little boy from the last dream.

  What was his name now? Oh, yes… Kaeninauth.

  The boy playfully prances after the butterfly, laughing uncontrollably as he scurries to keep up with its abrupt changes of direction.

  For some reason, despite the impossible creatures and plants that Keane finds himself surrounded by, it all just feels so real to him. He can smell the flowers and the grass. He can sense the forest breeze on his face. He can even feel the heat of the sun warming him and everything around him.

  Kaeninauth is just about to catch the butterfly when a terrifying roar startles him, and he is unwillingly scooped up into arms much larger than his.

  The savage-looking, bearded man has appeared out of nowhere. “I have you now!”

  Kaeninauth shrieks with laughter, as he wriggles and kicks against his father’s strength, until they both collapse laughing on the grass, the boy atop his father’s chest.

  “I almost had it, Father!”

  The man stops laughing. He sits up and gently holds his son by the shoulders. “No, son,” he says, solemnly. “Gaia and her creatures must be treated with love and care. They must be allowed all the freedoms we ourselves desire.”

  Seeing his child confused, the man continues.

  “Tell me this. Catching that butterfly would have given you pleasure, would it not?”

  “Oh, most certainly, Father, but I was too slow to—”

  “Yet, would you like it if a Yiilkundian Giant captured you in its grubby hands?”

  “No! Not at all!” cries the boy, horrified at the mere thought of it. Then, slowly, the lesson dawns on him. “Oh, I understand now! But then…”

  Kaeninauth silently retreats into his thoughts.

  “What is it, son?”

  “Father,” the boy says, restoring his gaze on the man, “Are Majjikons not creatures of Gaia too?”

  “Why of course they are!”

  “Then why do you wish to kill the Councilmembers?”

  “Kill the Councilmembers? Son! Who has filled your head with such talk?”

  “No one,” says Kaeninauth, tugging the grass nervously.

  “Slavizarus,” the man mutters to himself.

  Kaeninauth remains silent.

  Somehow more than just an observer in this situation, Keane can sense the boy’s fear at his father discovering his friend’s antics. Simultaneously, he can sense the father’s apathy toward this other boy, this Slavizarus, whom he seems to already know all about.

  What Keane doesn’t get, though, is how or why he can so exactly know what these two are thinking.

  The man gathers the boy into his arms and softly puts him on his lap. “Son, it is time I explained something to you,” he says, speaking slowly and deliberately so that his child can follow. “Yes, it is true that I am not the biggest supporter of the Council, but I neither intend nor desire to kill them. In fact, many of the Councilmembers are good friends of mine. Take, for instance, your uncle Trizovarius.”

  “Oh,” says Kaeninauth, squinting into the sun as he looks up at his father. “I like uncle Trizovarius.”

  “Indeed,” laughs the man, “And why would you not? He brings you and your brother presents! And often, too!”

  Kaeninauth chuckles, as does Keane, somehow in on the joke despite having no clue who or what a ‘Trizovarius’ is.

  “But remember this, Kaeninauth. Friend or foe, anyone who attempts to coerce you to their will through means of power must always be confronted.”

  The boy seems confused. “Coerce me to their will?”

  “It means forcing someone to say or do something they do not wish to do, son.”

  “You mean, the way I was about to coerce that butterfly?” asks the boy, distraught as the meaning of his father’s words begins to dawn on him.

  The man chuckles and pats his son on the head. “Don’t be so harsh on yourself. Even the best of us make mistakes, and they are fine to make, just so long as you learn from them.”

  Kaeninauth nods, but remains deep in thought. He turns to his father, brow furrowed. “So, has the Council… coerced you to do something you did not want to, Father?”

  The bearded man turns away and silently contemplates the horizon. Whatever the matter is that weighs him down, Keane can sense that it is of grave import to him, something he’d do absolutely anything to rectify.

  When he finally speaks, his tone is staid, a far cry from the playful manner he’d exhibited just moments earlier.

  “It is not just me they have coerced, son, but our entire race. Majjikons are forced to live as refugees, concealed against our will within these Hidden Worlds, with the safeguarding of humans cited as reason. And although these Worlds are, indeed, very beautiful, they are but scenic prisons. You see, son, I believe that Majjikons, just as humans, deserve the right to live wherever they choose to.”

  Keane can feel Kaeninauth’s mind race. An emotion is rising with the boy. It’s something bad, it’s something Keane is all too familiar with, and has been all his life… It’s fear.

  “So, now you must… confront them?”

  “Indeed.”

  “But, Father… How?” asks the boy, naïvely. “There are so many Councilmembers, and you are but one…”

  The man watches Kaeninauth with newfound admiration, for it has taken the boy no time at all to hit upon the very crux of the matter.

  Keane senses the man swell with pride and love for his boy. Never having felt pride before, and rarely having felt love, both emotions overwhelm him.

  Then, Kaeninauth’s father lets out a sad chuckle and takes his son into his arms in a warm embrace.

  “Never forget, son,” he says, a glum tinge evident in his voice now, “kenid akhnayram.”

  Kaeninauth nods, understanding the words spoken to him. Absorbing them.

  “I shan’t, Father,” he whispers. “I shan’t…”