Only a Glow

by Nichelle Rae

  “But why couldn’t you just go around them?” I half asked, half whined. “Why did you have to stop and fight?”

  He searched for an answer a moment and finally said, “I don’t know. I thought it would be fun.”

  I shook my head and narrowed my eyes at him. “I’d never been in a battle. Don’t you know that? I didn’t even know what I was doing.”

  Ortheldo smiled. “Well, you were superb for your first time.”

  I smiled a small smile. “Yeah, I suppose I was.”

  I he watched me intently for some reason, as I recalled the feeling of being a warrior. What a thrill! He seemed to be searching for something in my face, but before I could say anything, he stood and began to walk the battlefield, pulling some of my arrows out of the bodies. I gently rested my brother’s head on the ground and began to help Ortheldo.

  As the glory of battle coursed through my body, I realized my muscles were aching pretty badly. I rolled my shoulders and did my best to subtly stretch them out, but it didn’t help much. I would feel this battle in my bones for the next month.

  After a few moments, I realized the silence seemed to be smothering Ortheldo and me. He was unusually quiet today, perhaps still angry with me about last night. I cleared my throat. “Where do you think Norka went so suddenly?” Ortheldo just shook his head in response, not wanting to talk. A tightness of guilt filled my chest; he was still angry about last night. I tried to harden myself against his resentment, but I knew I deserved it.

  With my arrows collected, I looked at the sun. It was getting into early afternoon. “We should go,” I said, dropping my arrows in my quiver.

  “What?” Ortheldo asked, appalled. “Rabryn’s in no shape to travel.”

  Figures. When he does decide to speak to me, it’s to argue. I looked at Ortheldo, annoyed. “I’m sure Rabryn would want us to keep moving. Unless you think it’s better he lie here among these corpses while they start to rot in the afternoon sun. I bet they’ll smell wonderful by lunch time.”

  Ignoring my sarcasm, Ortheldo looked worried. “He’s going to be asleep all day.”

  I turned to him with my hands on my hips. I was sick of him questioning me. “What makes you think I don’t know that, Ortheldo? We were taught everything we know by the same man, weren’t we?”

  He shrugged and plucked another arrow out of a Gibir. “It’s been a long time.”

  He didn’t have to say what he really meant because it was written all over his face: You forgot all about the lesson with the Blue Dragon, and look what happened with that.

  I shook my head and walked away, toward my brother. “Just put Rabryn on Forfirith with me, then you take Eleclya. Do you think you can you handle that?” I asked, looking back at him over my shoulder.

  I thought I saw Ortheldo smiling broadly as he turned away to pluck my last arrow out of a Gibir. I ignored him and went to my horse. I sighed heavily as I pet Forfirith’s neck. “Hey, boy, we’re going to have to take it easy for Rabryn’s sake, but also go at a decent pace. Can you do that for me, buddy?” He gave a soft neigh and nuzzled my cheek. I smiled. “Thank you.” I put the bowls and my weapons in my packs and mounted.

  Ortheldo came over and picked up my brother as easily as if he were lifting an infant and brought him to me. I struggled a bit trying to get my brother’s limp body up onto my horse’s back in front of me. Then I had a hard time trying to keep him balanced against me.

  Ortheldo noticed. “You’re sure you want to travel with him like this?”

  With the back of Rabryn’s head resting against my shoulder, I took up my horse’s reins in front of him and glared down at Ortheldo. “Let’s go.”

  With a small smile and a shake of his head, Ortheldo went over to Urylia and mounted. He collected Eleclya’s reins, and we were off. Norka, however, was still nowhere to be seen.

  It was about three hours before sunset and we were riding alongside a small, gentle river to our left that turned with the road we were on. I watched the water as it flowed opposite the direction we were heading, and I felt very peaceful. Eventually we rounded the corner of the hill we’d been trekking all day, and a flat plain stretched out before us. Against the horizon, only a day’s ride away, were the jagged mountain peaks of the Mongerst Mountains.

  Oh, they were beautiful. Mountains were the grandest features upon the Light Gods’ green earth, and I hadn’t seen one in eight years. Now, there lay an entire range of them before my eyes. I couldn’t wait to reach them.

  As I absorbed the sight of the mountains, I suddenly heard my brother gasp softly. I immediately pulled back on the reins to stop Forfirith and looked at Rabryn. He was finally awake.

  My brother slowly picked up his head and gazed wide eyed at the distant mountain range. “They’re beautiful,” he said a little weakly. I smiled, realizing he’d never seen a mountain before.

  Ortheldo stopped beside me. “What’s wrong?”

  “Rabryn’s awake,” I said. “Come help me get him down.”

  Ortheldo dismounted and came to Forfirith’s side. He put his hands under Rabryn’s arms and slowly pulled him off my horse. Rabryn looked like a toddler being pulled off a pony ride. I dismounted quickly and helped Ortheldo hold him up.

  “How are you? How do you feel?” I asked.

  He gave me a small smile. “I’ll be able to answer more honestly after I’ve eaten something.” Ortheldo and I chuckled.

  “Take him over to the grass and sit him down. I’ll get us all something to eat.”

  As Ortheldo helped my brother away, I took all three horses and led them to the river to drink. Then I gathered up a little dinner from our packs. Ortheldo laid out his cloak next to the water, and all of us sat on it and ate.

  I expected my brother to remain weak and pale until we got him more advanced medicine, but as I watched him throughout dinner, he gained strength and color in his face with every passing moment. I was grateful, but confused. As much blood as my brother lost, he should not be doing this well so quickly. Soon, though, he was sitting up by himself and laughing with Ortheldo about how exciting the battle had been.

  I suppose they sensed my growing concern because both of them turned toward me. “What is it, Azrel?” Rabryn asked.

  I looked up from the blood stained, torn part of Rabryn’s shirt where he’d been shot, and into his bright blue eyes. I glanced at Ortheldo, who simply raised a brow, also wondering why I was so quiet.

  My brows dropped as I looked at Rabryn again. “Lay back and lift up your tunic, Rabryn.” I crawled over to him, inspecting the place the arrow had impaled him. My eyes got wide. “Dear Gods,” I breathed.

  “What is it?” both asked, Ortheldo more curious, Rabryn more concerned.

  I looked at Ortheldo and moved aside. “Look at this!”

  “What?” Rabryn insisted.

  Ortheldo crawled over and his brows went up with interest. “Wow.”

  “What?” Rabryn asked more urgently.

  “Your wound...” was all I could say.

  He sat up and looked at his stomach. “Yeah, it looks great.”

  Great? It looked phenomenal! There was nothing left of it but a large bruise! Granted, it was exceptionally large, spreading from his stomach around to his back like a giant black and purple ink stain, but the skin had closed. Roogle never closed a wound so fast! Especially a wound that was so nearly fatal. But here it was, before my eyes, a completely closed wound and looking fantastic. There wasn’t even a scab left in its place! Just smooth, black and purple skin.

  “What did you do? Did you use some of that mysterious white power you showed me at home?” he asked a little mischievously.

  “What? Oh…no,” I replied, still distracted by the healed state of his injury. “I just put some Roogle Root on you.”

  “What?” Rabryn asked, dismayed. “A plant?” His tone made me look up at him. He was angry. “You used a plant instead of your magic?” I didn’t want to talk about this with him, so I started to walk away.
“Gods, Azrel, did you want me to die or something?”

  Without thinking, I spun back around and slapped him hard across the face. “Don’t you ever accuse me of wishing you dead! Ever!”

  Stunned at myself, I could only stare helplessly at Rabryn. He slowly looked up at me, hurt, and I couldn’t even meet Ortheldo’s eyes.

  Just walk away! I had to tell myself.

  I turned around again and walked toward Forfirith standing next to the water, shaking the entire way. I had never, ever struck my brother! What was wrong with me? I had nearly killed Ortheldo last night, and then I strike both in the face in one day. Why was this violent side of me rearing its ugly head all the sudden? What was wrong with me?

  I sighed and rested my forehead against Forfirith’s. “He just doesn’t know what I am, or how this ‘gift’ ruined my father’s life. If he did, he’d understand why I hate my magic so much.”

  Forfirith made a whining noise and pointed his nose toward Rabryn and Ortheldo a few times.

  “What?”

  He did it again. I looked back and saw the boys slowly packing up dinner. I looked back at my horse, trying to grasp what he wanted to tell me. His big brown eyes were sad.

  “You think I should tell my brother what I am?”

  Forfirith made a gentle, almost purring sound and rested his forehead against mine, as if trying to comfort me and give me strength to do just that.

  I pulled away and pet his cheeks. “But what if he hates me?”

  Forfirith blew out a forceful breath, stomped his foot, and pushed my shoulder with his nose with some force, as if daring me to believe that could be possible.

  Well, why not tell Rabryn now? I pressed my lips together thoughtfully. So many “what ifs” were up in the air, and I didn't want them to come crashing down on my head. I couldn't deny that I had to tell him sooner or later. Why not sooner, before he finds out from someone else and doesn't understand?

  I sighed to myself and caressed Forfirith's cheek. “Okay, boy, okay. I'll tell him.” I took a deep breath and turned my eyes to the sky. “Gods of Light, please give me strength to do this. Please don’t let my brother hate me.” I found myself praying to Them a lot lately, and I wasn’t sure They bothered to hear me. I had to stop that. I couldn’t count on Them for anything, not after what They’d done to my father.

  I turned around to see Rabryn and Ortheldo walking toward me. Rabryn looked down when his eyes met mine, and he tried to step around me, but I placed my hand on his chest. “I’m sorry I slapped you,” I said. Then I looked up into his handsome eyes and suddenly wasn't so sure about myself. I chewed my bottom lip nervously as I ran the “what ifs” through my head again. He watched me, waiting patiently for what I was going to say. His eyes suddenly softened as he related a message to me through them. Trust me, it said.

  I sighed and wearily dropped my head. Here goes nothing—or, maybe, everything. “Rabryn, please sit down.”

  He quickly sat himself on the ground, Ortheldo right next to him. I would have laughed at their overeager expressions if I wasn’t so nervous. I sat, too, and drew up my knees, wrapping my arms around them and clasping each wrist with the opposite hand.

  “So, you’d like to know why I didn’t use my magic to heal you.”

  “Yes,” he replied, “and I might be pushing my luck but I was also hoping you could tell me where you learned to fight…well, the way you do. I mean, I watched you single-handedly and weaponless—weaponless—take down six of those…things.”

  “Gibirs,” Ortheldo aided.

  “Six of those Gibirs. You used your body in the strangest ways. I always knew you could fight well with a weapon handy, but I had no idea you could do…that! Whatever it was.”

  I sighed and rolled my shoulders back, working my still screaming muscles. I was paying for those moves right now. My muscles hadn’t been used in that way for so long. My entire body ached, especially my thighs and upper arms. I needed to get back into shape.

  “What I’m about to tell you has to do with my fighting style.” I sighed and rubbed both hands over my face. This was not going to be easy; nothing ever was easy for me. Nothing was ever easy, period. My father had made sure to drill that lesson into my head. I looked back at my brother, clasping my hands in front of my mouth. “Rabryn, I didn’t use my magic to heal you because I hate my magic.” I paused and waited for a reaction but saw none. “I hate what my father went through to protect it, only to be betrayed by it.” I blew out a breath to try and compose myself. “I also hate this magic because it took my father away from us.” I glanced at Ortheldo, and he bowed his head.

  I waited a few moments, trying to prepare myself for my next words. I locked my eyes with my brother, looking for any doubt, any reason, to stop telling him this. But there was only love and compassion in his eyes, so I sighed and continued. “The White Warrior you saw at home? It isn’t just a form I take when I use my magic.” I swallowed. “It’s who I am.” He dropped his eyebrows in confusion. “My magic, as you saw, is White Fire, but White Fire isn’t ordinary magic. No one else in the entire world possesses this magic except for me.”

  Now Rabryn’s brows shot up in interest. I wanted to scream. This wasn’t any form of good news I was telling him. So why was he so interested and not angry? I crossed my legs and looked down, plucking absently at the grass. “My father was the first White Warrior. He was a great and extremely powerful being in his time. He was a warrior that no enemy could touch. When he was created —”

  “Created?” Rabryn interrupted.

  I glanced up in confusion for a second, then pinched my forehead between my finger and thumb. “I’m sorry. There’s so much to tell I don’t even know where to begin.”

  “That’s okay. But what do you mean when you say your father was created?”

  I drew my knees up again and wrapped my arms around them. “My father was never born, he was created. In a place beyond any mortal being’s recognition, he was made by the Gods of Light.” Rabryn’s eyes went wide. “He described the first time he woke up among the Light Gods as a beautiful void of pure white, glowing haze. He described it as being in a cloud and on the sun at the same time.”

  “What did the Light Gods look like?” Rabryn asked eagerly with his eyes shining like a child hearing a wonder tale.

  I shrugged and smiled gently. “He didn’t remember.”

  Rabryn looked a little deflated. “Okay, I’m sorry. Continue.”

  “My father was created with a Sword in his hand, an extensive amount of knowledge, and a vast power at his disposal—the power of Goodness itself.” Rabryn looked confused. “This power takes the earthly form of my White Fire magic.” Now his eyes became really wide. “It’s the only element of its kind and sacred to the Light Gods, since it is a form of Their very own power; the power of Goodness Itself.”

  My brother started swallowing a lot. I wasn’t sure if that was a good sign. I continued anyway, suddenly needing to get all this out. “My father and his Sword were made and sent here during a time when this world would be considered evil. Evil, or Shadow, since the Shadow Gods command Evil, ruled the world. There was nearly nothing left of Goodness, which made it very hard for the Light Gods to interfere and help. They were very weak. They could not keep a foothold of Their power, Goodness, in the land because very few people in the world held any Goodness in their hearts anymore.

  “Without Goodness in a person, the Light Gods could do nothing. There wasn’t enough Goodness in the world for them to influence and allow Them to revolt against Evil. The beings that remained Good were either too afraid to act when called upon by The Light Gods, or imprisoned by Evil forces and therefore couldn’t act if they were called upon. The world needed to be set free first. The Good people left in the world had to be released before The Light Gods could take action to rise against Evil.”

  I sighed and shook my head. I hadn’t planned on giving a history lesson today, but I found myself incredibly prepared. I was remembering everyt
hing my father had taught me about this time. Or was I? Maybe because it was a part of my past as the White Warrior, I was just recalling it as if it had happened in my own life. In a way, it sort of did happen in my life. It happened to my father, the White Warrior, and now I was the White Warrior.

  “This Evil time began with the Shadow Gods’ champion, Hathum.” A shiver ran down my spine at the mention of the name. “Hathum was a very powerful Sorcerer, who gave up almost all of his very life force to develop a thing so great, and so ominous, that it was simply called The Nameless One. It was the second most Evil thing alive, falling short only to Hathum.”

  Hathum. It had been a long time since I’d spent any time brooding over that name. I rubbed my arms vigorously to fight the biting chill crawling over my skin. Hathum was the evil that waited for me somewhere out here. Hathum was the evil I was born to destroy, though I believed he would destroy me long before I even got a glimpse of him.

  “So, the Light Gods took a huge risk creating my father to set free the Good captives and hopefully, slowly, breed Goodness back into the world. Then the Light Gods could use that Goodness to revolt against the Evil.

  “But the tricky and extremely risky part was that to create my father and his Sword, They had to take every single shred of Goodness, Their power, left in the entire world, and combine it into one being. That included taking all the Goodness out of the hearts of the people in the world.” Rabryn’s eyes grew wide again. “After making my father, all that was left of Goodness in the world was in the vague and quick-to-dissolve form of Hope. Hope, however, isn’t a power of the Light Gods. It’s just a fragile creation of mortal beings.”

  Hope, I scoffed mentally. It seemed ridiculous to me that anyone survived that time at all with only a base of Hope to tie them to Goodness! Hope was a choice that could be made by Good and Evil. I’m sure Evil hoped to take over the world, while Good hoped it wouldn’t! On top of that, Hope was a choice that few people of the Light had made back then anyway. I sighed softly and clenched my teeth; it also demonstrated how amazing my father had been because he had raised up an army of Goodness, with only such a fragile thing as Hope to work with! Then, not only did the world betray him, but so did the Light Gods. I had to take a few deep breaths to rein in my temper before I spoke again.