by Jeff Gunzel
Narkural froze, a stunned expression on his face as he stared at Viola. He clenched his hand, instantly smothering the waves of rising distortion. Seeing his nearly horrified expression, heads quickly turned. Viola took a step back, her confused eyes darting from person to person. What were they all staring at?
“She has no thread,” Narkural gasped, dread dripping from each word. The ever-composed nezzerian appeared to be shaken to his core. Following everyone’s gaze, Viola looked up to see that he was right. Everyone in the room had a floating line that disappeared up into the ceiling—everyone but her. “She has no thread!” he repeated, his voice finding strength the second time.
“What does that mean?” Xavier asked, sidestepping in front of Viola to protectively wall her off.
“Well, maybe we just can’t see hers,” Liam reasoned, trying desperately to come up with some sort of explanation. “Perhaps it has something to do with her mixed blood, or maybe that apparition missed her energy entirely.” Even to his own ears, his logic sounded rash and desperate.
Narkural’s eyes narrowed. “Every living thing has a life’s thread. Plants, rodents, even insects have one! What sort of black magic is this?” He began to pant, his massive chest rising and falling in rhythm, as if he were about to rage. “You’re not a creature of this world!” he roared, pointing an accusing finger at her. “You shouldn’t even exist! You are nothing more than some inanimate object, a puppet of some sort.”
“That’s not true!” Viola shrieked, her hissing voice seeming to shake the room as it echoed from everywhere at once. “I’m a living person. I feel emotions and I have my own memories.”
“Do you, now?” Narkural hissed, his fists trembling. “Then my question shall be an easy one to answer.” He moved closer to her, towering over her like a giant. “How much can you recall from your childhood? Do you have even a single memory to share with us?”
Her chest clenched, as if all the air had been sucked from the room. Her mouth dried instantly, opening and closing wordlessly as she attempted to answer a haunting question whose answer had eluded her for years.
“I... I...” she mumbled, feeling the weight of every set of eyes around the room. Just moments ago, there had been rising tempers and swirling emotion, but now the room was as silent as a graveyard.
Liam sighed, his gaze falling to the floor. He, along with the others, had known for some time now that she couldn’t recall anything from her childhood. But he never viewed it as a symptom, or any sort of sign that might help disclose something bigger. He never deemed her lack of memories relevant to her mysterious past...until now.
“You can’t remember a thing, can you?” Narkural accused in a calm tone. His expression displayed no smug grin, the expected reaction from someone whose guess had been proven correct. In this, he didn’t want to be right. “That’s because you never had a childhood. I should have known the second I laid eyes on you. You’re a lerwick!”
“What are ye talking about?” Owen grunted, tugging Viola’s shoulder to move her farther away from the nezzerian. Xavier shifted again, trying to stay directly in front of Narkural.
“A lerwick,” Narkural repeated, as if it should somehow be obvious. “There is no other explanation. She has no life’s thread because she is not real!”
“You’re mad!” said Thatra, pushing both Viola and Xavier towards the exit. “Coming here was a mistake. Let’s get out of here.”
“Agreed,” said Liam, also inching his way towards the doorway.
“Don’t you fools see?” Narkural asked, stepping back around his desk. “She can’t remember anything that happened.”
“But I’m standing right here, so obviously I was born!” Viola protested, pushing back against Thatra, who was still trying to nudge her towards the door. “Are you so blind that—”
“No, you were not born,” Narkural interrupted, sliding open the top drawer of his desk. “You were created.” He grabbed a shiny silver dagger from the drawer. “You are nothing more than a perversion of nature, an imitation of life. Your very existence wreaks havoc on the natural balance. I’m sorry, but I cannot let you leave.” Dagger in hand, the towering creature came back around the desk in a rush.
“Cover your eyes!” Liam shouted before lowering his staff with a thud and barking an arcane word. A blinding light flashed from the goat’s eyes. Narkural shrieked in pain, the dagger falling from his hand as he covered his face. “We have to go. Run!” Liam yelled.
“Ahh!” Viola screamed, rubbing her eyes as she stumbled into a wall.
“I’ve got you,” came a familiar voice in her ear. Xavier threw her arm around his shoulder and they all hurried from the room.
Stumbling down the dark hall, they could still hear Narkural’s angry shouts. “Stop them!” he called, blindly crashing over the top of his desk before hitting the floor.
They burst from the building, eyes searching this way and that for a possible escape route. Alerted by Narkural’s shouts, the five nezzerians at the bottom of the steps turned to look up.
“Make for the horses. I’ll hold them off as long as I can!” Thatra shouted, charging down the steps with her weapon drawn. Several black whips with strings tipped with metal uncoiled from under the nezzerians’ sleeves. Bracing themselves, the creatures held their ground as the tarrin streaked in.
Using her built-up momentum, she lowered her head and butted the first. Thatra’s thick ram horn smashed his nose, taking several teeth in a misting spray of red. One already taken out, she dropped to one knee and spun, her heel crashing into the calf of another. Despite the substantial weight difference, the skilled warrior’s blistering kick upended the much larger nezzerian, sending his body horizontal into the air before he, too, crashed to the ground. The nezzerian’s trembling fingers clutched at what was clearly a broken leg, bent unnaturally to one side.
“Go!” she shouted again, having cleared one side of the steps within seconds. The party funneled past her, sprinting for their mounts, which were only a short ways away. After taking a second too long to watch them go, paralyzing agony ripped through the back of her shoulder. She felt pain worse than that from any sword strike. A metal tip from a whip bit deep into her flesh. Trying to mentally fend off the searing pain of a thousand bees stinging all at once, the tarrin feared she might lose consciousness. Her right side practically paralyzed, fingers tingling with numbness, she just managed to roll her blade into her weak hand.
Her warrior instincts screaming with warning, she rolled forward just as a second whip cracked above her head. With her body in so much pain, the maneuver was excruciating, but had to be done. There was simply no way she could take another hit like that.
Whirling back to face her attackers, her hand darted from her side with a flicking motion. Another nezzerian shrieked, crumpling to the ground while clutching his leg, a dagger embedded just above the knee. Thatra couldn’t properly grip a sword with that hand, but she could still throw a blade. Her intention was not to kill any of them. They didn’t deserve to lose their lives, but at the same time she would do what was necessary for her friends to escape. With only two left standing, the nezzerians hesitated, no longer looking eager to advance against the seasoned warrior.
“Stop them!” Narkural roared, stumbling through the door at the top of the steps. Blinking incessantly, swiping at his eyes, he flailed about wildly, hitting nothing but air. “The girl is a lerwick! Don’t let her escape!” Thatra reached to her side again, feigning a second dagger throw. The nezzerians’ brief pause and flinch bought her enough time to turn and run. Despite the crippling pain in her shoulder, her only concern was that she’d bought the others enough time to get to safety.
Stumbling along, still swiping at her burning eyes, Viola yanked free of Xavier’s supporting arm. I’m tired of being cared for. I’m tired of being a constant burden. “Can you see yet?” Xavier asked, concerned, refusing to push on until he knew she could move on her own.
“Yes!” she blurted out
, irritated by his overprotection. No… I can hardly see. “Sort of... Everything is covered with spots.”
“This way,” he said, roughly snatching her wrist. She could be mad at him later. He wasn’t going to let her ego get her captured, or worse. Nezzerians were beginning to flood the area, many just confused as to what all the commotion was about. But others looked to have a clear intention as they rushed straight for the outsiders.
With their escape routes quickly being choked off, Xavier found himself left with little choice. “Down,” he ordered, practically throwing her to the ground. Ripping open the front of his cloak, his ringed fingers danced across his bladed chest before casting into the air. Half-moon blades levitated as if wielded by unseen ghosts, lingering in the air while defying gravity before finally bursting into motion.
Whistling around at impossible speeds, they formed a razor-sharp dome of blades. Charging nezzerians halted in their tracks, backing away from the whirling shield. Bladed whips unfurled from beneath their sleeves. With a rolling wrist, the first snapped his weapon into the buzzing dome, its metal tips seeking to penetrate. With a shrill clang, all heads of the whip deflected straight up in a ricochet of blue sparks.
Others closed in, preventing any sort of escape as they twirled their whips above their heads. Unleashing their timed assault as one, whips blasted against the bladed dome in a snapping blur. Like a lightning storm, flashes of white and green sprayed in all directions as the nezzerians pressed their assault. Metal tips were cut off while others penetrated several inches before meeting the same fate. Xavier held his concentration, keeping his blades spinning even as the constant barrage hindered his momentum. Viola stayed down on all fours as flashes of sparks danced all around. The sounds of grinding metal rang out while bladed tips rained down on her head and back.
With the slightest twitch of a finger, a single blade zoomed off course. It bit hard into the knee of a nezzerian, sending him stumbling to the ground. With a second twitch, the blade ripped free and zipped back. Smooth as silk, the bloodied weapon reentered the whirling orbit of steel as if it had never left.
“You don’t have to kill them!” Viola protested.
“Slaughtering them is not my intention,” Xavier assured her, trying to shout over the rushing sounds of whistling steel. “But if it comes down to us or them, I promise you that it’s going to be—” With a thundering boom, orange flashes spiked the ground all around them, kicking up clumps of dirt in small explosions. Several Nezzerians dove to the ground covering their heads. Others simply ran off, streaking towards the shelter of their homes.
“Come on!” Owen shouted from off in the distance. Liam was with him, his bloodstained staff revealing his part in this chaos. Having cleared a path, Owen rolled his shoulders, sending his auto-crossbows clacking back up his arms. Xavier’s blades slowed, then rose in columns above his head. They seemed to float back down, settling softly between his fingers. He sheathed them all in a single movement before hoisting Viola back to her feet. Hand in hand, the two of them started running towards the hunter.
Hearing galloping coming from behind, Xavier spared a quick glance over his shoulder. If need be, he would push Viola out of the way and try to deal with the charging threat head-on. “Keep running,” Thatra shouted, riding up fast while holding the reins of the other horses. When she caught up to them, Xavier hoisted Viola up onto her moving horse before leaping onto his own.
Cloaked figures stood in front of the doorway, more appearing with each passing second. Running side by side with Liam, the hunter let out a sharp whistle, making a hand gesture towards the entrance. Suddenly, the ground seemed to shake as his lavics came thundering out of nowhere. Head down, horns leveled, it charged right towards the doorway. Nezzerians blocking the way showed little courage in the face of the charging beast. They dove in all directions, practically climbing over each other to get out of the way.
Liam hopped up on his mount, quickly followed by Owen, who leapt up behind him. Together, they streaked past the terrified beings. Galloping hard, the others flashed by and were through the great doors, a twisting funnel of rising dust in their wake. Into the forest they rode, behind them a chorus of angry shouts. They had managed to escape by the skin of their teeth.
* * *
After riding for several hours to put as much distance between themselves and the nezzerian village as possible, they decided to stop for the night. They sat around the evening fire pondering what had gone wrong. But not Viola. Once again she had isolated herself, sitting alone by a nearby tree with an open book on her lap. Her fleeting feelings of acceptance were all but gone, those once-warm thoughts now replaced by Narkural’s haunting words.
How much can you recall about your childhood?
Viola thought long and hard, staring at the page while inadvertently reading the same sentence over and over. She tried desperately to remember something, anything. A favorite toy, being bounced on someone’s knee...anything.
You can’t remember a thing, can you?
She began to rock back and forth, the back of her head thumping the tree. What did some crazy old creature stuck living in a time long forgotten know, anyway? The nezzerians were just some ancient, psychotic race trying to rewrite history as they went along. What could those primitive fools possibly know?
You shouldn’t even exist!
“Shut up,” Viola growled under her breath.
You shouldn’t even exist!
“I’m not listening to you. You’re the one who’s crazy, not me!”
“You shouldn’t even exist,” came a clear voice from in front of her.
“Wha-What did you say?” asked Viola, startled, her eyes darting up to meet Xavier’s.
He knelt down in front of her and gently closed the book on her lap. “I said you shouldn’t be sitting alone. Why don’t you come and join us by the fire?” He smiled, tilting his head to the side. His shaggy blond hair flopped over, covering one eye. “We miss you. I miss you.” He took her by the hand. He misses me? Even after everything that’s happened, he can still look at me that way? Viola broke down, pulling back her hand to cover her face. Her eyes filled with tears.
Without saying a word, Xavier spun and sat down beside her, leaning back against the tree. When he slipped his arm around her shoulder, she leaned into him, snuggling her head into his chest. Her head swirled with emotions, but right now, Xavier served as her rock. In all this confusion, he was the only thing in her world she was sure of. Though kind and soft-spoken, he was steady, confident, and didn’t seem the least bit phased by Narkural’s words. He was the rock that could help her stay grounded in these crazy times.
After a time, she lifted her head and wiped her eyes. “I don’t deserve you, any of you,” she said with a sniff.
“You shouldn’t say such things,” Xavier replied, wiping a tear from her cheek with his finger.
“What if he’s right?” she asked, her voice so soft that he wasn’t sure he had heard her correctly. Xavier pulled her closer, wearing a more serious expression. “Narkural. What if everything he said about me was true?” she pressed.
“Narkural...is a crazy fool,” Xavier said, lifting her chin to make sure she was looking him in the eyes as he spoke. Her already red eyes appeared bloodshot from crying. He held her gaze, wanting to be sure she knew his words were genuine. “They’re crazy, every last one of them. They think that by torturing each other, they can somehow bleed away all the suffering in the world. They believe that they alone have the power to control the balance of everything, as if they were somehow a clan of gods.
“Well, I observed them with an open mind, and I assure you that I didn’t see any gods. What I saw was a cult! A pack of lost souls following an extremist with a broken sense of justice. He promised the impossible in order to rationalize his absurd actions to give their empty lives a sense of purpose. Do not waste another second thinking about the mindless words of that cultist.”
Refusing to look away from those light-bl
ue eyes, she measured his words carefully. It was obvious he wanted them to be true. “He knew things about me he couldn’t possibly know,” she reasoned, her quiet voice void of all emotion. “I have no memory of my childhood. How could he have known that with such certainty?”
“Given your unusual upbringing, I can only assume your childhood must have been traumatic,” Xavier reasoned, grasping at straws to counter her straightforward logic. “You probably have no memory of it because your mind blocked it out. Yes, I’m sure that’s it. This is not the first time I’ve heard of—”
“I have no life’s thread,” she said quietly. Xavier closed his mouth, his eyes glassing over into a long, vacant stare. “I have. No. Life’s thread,” she repeated slowly. “You saw that yourself.”
Speechless, desperately searching his mind for a logical counter argument, Xavier’s eyes fell away.
She smiled, the peaceful smile of acceptance when someone knew a thing was out of their control. Her fingers walked along the ground towards his hand. Gently, she clasped her hand over his. “He said I shouldn’t exist, remember? I am not a fool, Xavier. I recognize a fact when it slaps me in the face. He’s right: I should not exist at all.”
Xavier’s body moved so suddenly, so violently, that she didn’t have time to react. In truth, she had never seen a human move with such explosiveness. For a brief moment, she was certain he was going to harm her. In a flash, his hands slammed the tree on either side of her head, his face only an inch from hers. Like blue flames, his eyes flared with an intensity she had never seen before. His hot breath pulsed against her face, but she didn’t have enough will to turn away from that glare.
