by Brad Stucki
All flashed vividly through Chahzuu’s mind before being sucked away, leaving gashes of pain, of soul and spirit. He was being emptied.
Nemesis' eyes were closed, head back, drinking it in, being nourished by the ecstasy of pure spirit-power flowing through the Stone.
This must not be! Chahzuu was amazed he could still think through the pain. Death was near, but he must stop this! Nemesis will destroy his people. Destroy his world.
The Stone!
The end was an instant away. Chahzuu felt it.
He tried to hold back; to hold one last bit of himself, his last core, his final essence, and with all his fury, all his rage, thrust it forward in attack just as everything went dark.
Nemesis felt the surge and staggered back, hit with something he hadn’t expected. He shook his head, clearing his senses. The red glow about his breast diminished, cooling into the black pulsing that had been before, and then that slowly calmed to reveal his bare chest underneath the tunic.
Smiling, he let go his hold on Chahzuu, who collapsed to the cavern floor. “Thanks, animal.” Nemesis scowled at the lifeless figure. A blur of thoughts ran through his mind, coalescing, categorizing, settling.
“Yes! You’ve just handed me the one thing I’ve lacked. My weapon will now be the people’s own belief.” He hesitated, as if sifting through more memories wrenched from the body sprawled at his feet.
“And another is here?” he was confused by the images. It looked like him . . . but different. Maybe the animal was just confused. “I knew the Guardians would try something. Well I can deal easily enough with that!”
Nemesis grasped the now clear and seemingly lifeless Stone in his fist. Shaking his head, he let the spherical crystal roll from his fingers to the dirt cavern floor inches from the outstretched fingertips of the lifeless Chahzuu.
Nemesis strolled to the back of the chamber. Shadows gathered around, enveloping him in a darkness that immediately began to fade until he was gone with it.
***
Javin felt a nudge against his chest. Sleepily, he rolled over batting at whatever had disturbed him. He felt a nudge on his back, this time more pronounced.
"Mmph." He groaned, rolling back over and opened his bleary eyes. They widened. He didn’t dare move.
Standing above, holding a lance point indenting the skin of his chest, stood a woman. At least she had the form of a woman. She was covered in a silky coat of fur reminding him vaguely of an animal he knew.
A cat! Word and image came to his mind.
Flanking the woman stood more of the same, all covered in the same silky layer of fur, all in different shades of dun coloring, faces bare, hair cascading down shoulders, small tufted ears pointed up on either side of their heads.
Except for the woman pinning him down, the others held their lances at the ready like they knew how to use them.
All wore what looked like soft canvass breeches with short soft leather boots and a collar-less shirt that looked like a uniform fitting over the undeniably female contours. The uniform colors were a mottled green and brown Javin had seen before . . . somewhere. It was to help them blend in with the jungle.
Jungle?
Javin gasped as he remembered where he'd fallen asleep. It wasn't in the jungle! But that’s where he was, under a broad, green canopy just inside a clearing where the women had found him.
Since being on this world, he hadn't slept so deeply knowing the dangers, but something had definitely moved him from the temple without his knowing. He was being manipulated. Someone was pulling his strings. It made him angry.
"Who are you?" Javin asked, trying to sit up. The woman holding the lance pushed him back down. Javin went with the pressure, trying to avoid impaling himself.
He held up his hands. "I mean no harm, I just want to make friends, okay?"
There was no answer. The group continued to stare until another moved into view to look him over.
"What manner of animal are you?" she asked. Javin noted she was dressed differently; a soft leather combination of pants and shirt. Something the well-to-do jungle traveler would wear, though it was in a simple tan almost matching the color of her pelt. She wore a jeweled necklace around her slender neck. A little shorter than the others, she was also less muscular and definitely not as mean.
"You understand me?" Javin was shocked. "You know my language? But how . . ." He realized it wasn't that they knew his language, he knew theirs. Hearing himself, he finally realized he was using a different language than his natural language. And don’t ask me how I know what my natural language is, since I can’t remember anything, Javin thought as he discovered he spoke it fluently, and understood it as well -- as good as his own.
"This is getting weirder by the day."
"What are you talking about?" the woman spoke again, narrowing her dark amber eyes. "And answer my question. What sort of animal are you? You have no pelt, your skin is indecently bare and you cover yourself with crude dead animal. Why do you do this? Where do you come from?"
"Uh, I can’t answer that," Javin said. "This will sound strange, but I can't remember. I'm kind of lost. I think I was sent here, but can’t figure out why. I was hoping you could help me.
“As for what kind of animal I am; I was thinking the same about you. I'm normal where I come from -- wherever that is. You definitely aren't from the same place."
Javin took a deep breath. His was neck getting sore from holding it at an odd angle. "Look. I don't mean any harm. I'll answer any questions you have -- at least whatever I can answer, but you're the first person I've been able to talk with since being brought here. Maybe you could answer some of my questions. May I at least stand?"
"You are in no position to ask anything.” The woman hesitated then spoke again. “You may stand -- as long as you’re well guarded." She nodded to the woman holding the lance who moved back a pace and allowed him to stand while still keeping the lance at the ready. "You will not be harmed unless you make trouble. Understand?"
Javin nodded.
Another of the women moved close and relieved him of his pouch. This one had a heavier, darker pelt. Her uniform was the same, though a darker shade of green, and more rumpled. They were all silent as she emptied it.
She turned, bowing slightly and handed the contents over to the woman who’d been speaking.
Watching Javin warily, the leader -- at least she acted the part -- sorted through the handful. Then she stopped; holding up something which surprised Javin.
"Where did you get this?" The woman indicated a small milk-white crystal sphere sitting in her palm. Strange gray veins wriggled faintly through it as she held it up. It seemed to absorb and give off a dull, rich light. "What is it?"
"I don't . . ." Javin was about to say he didn't know what it was, then he knew it was his. He didn't know how he knew, only that he knew.
"It's mine. Just a charm, really. I keep it for luck. Can I have it back?" Trying not to sound anxious, Javin slowly held out his hand. The woman ignored him.
"It’s smooth and it feels of a different texture." She held it up to look more closely. The light, bright in its refractory dances from the mist, glanced off the orb. The scintillation held dull as it passed through.
"What is it?" she asked again.
"I really don't know." Javin said, surprised he should be so anxious over something he didn't know belonged to him until just now. That was the strange part. It didn't belong to him. Or did it?
Somehow, he had the feeling this crystal was important to him. Even though it had just been found in his pouch, it wasn't something he'd had with him before. Thinking back, he realized it must have been placed there by whoever had moved him from the temple.
This feeling of attachment was another matter. It went deep. Something he couldn't explain, he just knew how he suddenly felt.
"Princess, this may help." Another woman moved up, shorter, a very light pelt, carrying an open book. This one wasn’t dressed in any uniform, but wore a plai
n tan sleeveless tunic, tan breeches and boots that laced up to the lower part of her shins.
Princess. The leader had been called "princess." Javin strained to see what the other was showing.
The Princess glanced at the page then back at Javin, her eyes growing wider, then narrowed again as her scrutiny deepened. She gestured for others to step forward to see. They looked at the book then looked at him. Some gasped, holding clenched fists over their breasts in a crossing fashion. Javin couldn't tell if it was a warding, or a gesture of respect.
The woman -- the Princess spoke again.
"Again, I ask. What are you?"
"I'm a human, a human being."
"Hoomahn." the princess tried, the sound pushed from her mouth in an odd way.
"My name is Javin Cox."
"Jahvin’ Coxxx.”
"And your name, Princess?"
"It will be given if, and when it is decided." She said. "We must first see what it means, this being Hhooman." She gestured to those holding lances on him. They moved forward and the points pressed against his skin while Javin did his best not to appear threatening.
The princess moved closer, holding the opaque crystal upraised in her palm. As she held it even with his breast it began to glow, pulsing with a bright sheen that grew brighter the closer it approached his chest.
Javin squinted, feeling its radiance as the princess continued to move it nearer to his breast. He heard a deep intake of breath from those around him, and then felt the crystal’s searing contact as it touched his breast, flaring with blinding brilliance . . .
Javin was four years old sitting on a carpeted floor playing with some blocks. His head was thickly bandaged, but he wasn’t in any pain. His hands moved deftly, and his unusual black eyes were quick, alert, watching the nonsensical patterns he was creating. Geometric patterns interested him, but it also let him listen in on the muffled conversation the two people were having in the next room behind a closed door.
“Will he be okay?” That was from his foster mother.
“Oh, he'll be fine,” the doctor answered. “His injuries are superficial. No sign of concussion. Head wounds always bleed the most, you know. Nothing more than any other active child hasn't done. Don't worry. Everything checks out normal except there were a couple of different readings in the scans; nothing to be worried about, really. They show his intellect to be quite well developed for his age. Do you work with him?”
“Why no,” Javin's foster mother responded. “I've only had him a couple of weeks. He was just transferred from his last foster home. There are so few foster parents anymore that he had to be moved because his first home was needed for another couple of children. I know the family, and they kept apologizing the whole time.
They clearly loved the boy but weren't able to give him much attention. They had three others besides, and he was the best behaved, so they spent most of their time with the others.”
“You don’t know his history, then?” the doctor asked.
“I’m afraid not. He was found abandoned on a doorstep one morning. There was a little wrist tag with the word ‘Javin’ on it. Didn't know whether it was his name for sure or not, but that's what we call him. Could it be natural? The readings, I mean.”
“Not likely,” the doctor said. “It's hard to believe someone who worked with him so hard to foster his natural intelligence would abandon him.”
“But he was just an infant when he was abandoned,” his foster mother said.
There was silence for a moment.
“Well then, maybe my scans are off. It's odd, but nothing to be afraid of. Actually, it’s an interesting case. I'd like to follow it through sometime and check up on him from time to time as he grows and see what develops. Now if you'll come with me, I need you to sign the remaining forms, so I can release him . . ."
Javin heard them walk out of the connecting room. Thought furrowed his brow. He'd always felt he was different from his other "brothers and sisters." Different, but not necessarily in a bad way. . . He hoped.
Focusing back on the blocks, he didn’t notice anyone enter the room until the stranger was suddenly standing over him. Javin felt weird. There was a stranger right there, but Javin felt like he knew him. Felt ‘comfortable’ like he was ‘family’. His young perceptions couldn't define the feeling, only that he felt it.
The stranger was dressed in a blue form fitting coverall with patches and pockets. It zipped up the front, and all the pockets zipped. He had a small pouch clipped to his hip that he reached into and pulled out a small round object and put in on the floor in front of Javin. It was a milky white crystal just small enough it would easily fit into his hand. Javin was intrigued by its spherical shape and coloring. Just like a 'biggie' marble, but prettier. He could make out faint gray veins running throughout that seemed to be swirling, but as he focused his attention they never moved. They just ‘seemed’ to.
Javin squinted, trying to look deeper, and then felt drawn inside. Not really inside, but just . . . connected . . . to the crystal, and it lifted him, calmed him.
The man smiled. “It's yours. In time, you’ll learn how to use it. Don't show it to anyone. I think you understand why.”
And for some reason, Javin did. It felt like the crystal, without words, had imparted that understanding to him the moment he’d stared into it. The man smiled again.
There was a flash of light, Javin blinked, and the man was gone.
Javin stared at where he'd been then reached out and picked up the 'marble'.
Just then his foster mom came back into the room.
“Time to go Javin. Let’s put the blocks away so we can go home and rest.”
He hid the ‘marble’ in his other hand, and started picking up the blocks, taking them over to the table with the rest of the toys.
“The doctor said you’ll be all right. You may have a headache for a couple of days, but after that you should be fine.”
Javin smiled and put his hands in his pockets, taking care to keep the crystal hidden till he was sure his foster mom wouldn’t notice.
“Ready?” she asked.
Javin nodded, and they left the office . . .
The light returned to normal except for the spots in Javin’s eyes from the flash. He felt a burning deep in his chest, a hot coal warming his flesh, spreading outward to his limbs and the crown of his head, leaving every part of his body tingling. Javin would have been afraid had it not felt so good. He glanced down at his chest. Within the cavity he could tell the crystal had somehow merged, and was still glowing, illuminating his insides with a muted golden glow.
The tingling started to pass as he took deep breaths. He was still alive. How, he didn't know. Why was even more a mystery.
What is happening?
All the women save for the princess had fallen to their knees, heads bowed. The princess was staring at him with a mixture of amazement, wonder, and a spark of curiosity. Even those with lances had dropped them by their sides and fallen to their knees.
"What’s going on?" he asked. "What are you doing?"
"They think you have been sent to save us." The princess answered. Her voice was soft, a combination of fear, caution, even reverence. "They think you are Mulda’ fi; a Promised One."
"Why on earth would they think that?” Javin said. “I don't know who I am, or why I'm here, much less anything about your world. I was just dropped here -- I think anyway -- by someone I haven't been able to figure out.” He stopped for a moment to catch his breath. “I was hoping you could help me."
"That is curious," the princess said. There was silence, everyone waiting. Finally, Javin spoke.
“Look. I really don’t know what’s going on here, but I promise I won’t hurt anyone. Could you just answer some of my questions, please? And by the way,” Javin reached over and took the hand of one of the women and lifted her to her feet. “No bowing. It makes me nervous. And I certainly haven’t done anything to deserve it. Okay?”
“As you
say,” the princess said with narrowed eyes, focusing on his face, as if she were trying to find any treachery hidden there. She gestured everyone to stand, but the look she continued to direct his way made Javin nervous.
“We will still be on our guard.” She directed a meaningful glance at the lancers who’d dropped their weapons. They cringed and quickly snatched them back, still not sure whether to keep him under guard or not.
Javin almost laughed, deciding it best not to antagonize them further. Besides there were more important things he needed to sort out. These people maybe could give him some answers.
“With your promise of no harm . . ." The princess continued to look at him.
"Thank you." Javin said. "I promise. Can I ask the questions now?"
"Yes, if that is your wish."
"First, could you tell me what just happened; I mean, with the marble and all.” Odd that I should call it that, Javin thought. “To be honest, I think the first time I ever saw that thing was when your, ah, guard held it up. I told you it was mine, but I don't think it was . . . At least I felt like it was mine, so I wasn’t lying . . . I think. Like I said, I'd never seen it before in my life -- at least that I remember.
“There's so much I don't remember! Like just about everything to do with my life." Javin knew he must sound mad. He didn't know how else to explain, and these women were the only people he could ask.
"You are a strange. . . Hoomahn. Then again, you’re the first I've met."
"Please call me Javin," he said smiling.
"Yes, Jahvinn. And you may call me Mouhra' Lah. I am the Princess of Putra' Fi Soro - City of the Winds." She smiled back. It was lovely. Once you got past the fact she was covered in a pelt of fur, and her smiling teeth showed sharp pointed fangs, she was quite striking. Her features were delicate, yet she stood and acted strong, a natural leader. Javin supposed she was since she was a princess.
