by Brad Stucki
Next, Javin looked at his assailant. His dun-colored pelt was covered with a rough black leather tunic and breeches. A heavy blade, about a forearm’s length long, hung at his side, a dagger fastened at the other hip. On his breast was emblazoned a golden yellow sunburst.
That's odd, Javin thought. How would they know how the sun looks? I've not seen it since I've been here.
Then Javin's eyes were drawn to the man's left arm. A long red gash shown inside his forearm, hastily wrapped to stanch the flow of blood. The lion-man noted Javin’s eyes.
“I got too close to the princess who had a hidden knife we didn’t find. I like a woman with spirit, don’t you?” He raised his eyebrows and moved closer.
Fresh anger burned in Javin's heart. His arms tensed in spite of the pain. The cold grasp tightened on his arms.
The lion-man smiled again. “You have spirit too. Little good it will do. I've got what I came for." He glanced back at the sullen form of the princess. "You are little more than a curiosity. What manner of creature are you? You may answer.”
Javin kept silent for a moment then decided he didn’t have anything to lose. “My name is Javin. I’m a human being.”
“Ah, this animal has a name: Javin. And what, pray tell, is a hhumahn bheing?”
“It’s something you’ll never have talent for,” Javin snarled.
Again, the man cuffed him across the head, this time sharp nails raked gashes across his face.
“You don’t seem to learn, Javin. Bring the princess here. Perhaps she can tell us a little more.”
Javin scanned the camp again. The lion-man, it seemed, commanded a troop of 50 or more chameleon men. His commanding these chameleon men seemed odd, unless they were a slave species. Yet they seemed too proud, too dignified for that. Although they obeyed him, he thought he could sense some distaste in some of their attitudes, as if they didn’t like what they were being asked to do.
The princess and Siri' Bhu were brought forward. The princess held her chin high, regal, eyes flashing with defiance. Her manner dripped with scorn. The lion-man chuckled with indifference.
“Tell me Princess, what is this hhuman bheingg you have with you? It's interesting and fought with strength. Is this another race you've found -- like your uncle found these?” The lion-man gestured to his group of soldiers.
Mouhra' Lah looked at the lion-man as if noticing an insect and kept silent. The lion-man didn't seem to notice and continued to goad her into speaking.
"Your uncle is the savior of your people, you know. In this Time of Trouble, he has located the legendary Pontu' Gi – Protectors; the race who’ll protect our world from certain doom as the legends say."
The princess turned her head slightly from her captor, looking around at the strange soldiers. Javin noticed her eyes seemed to glisten with moisture. She had a look that, almost but not quite, belied a look of hopelessness. Javin felt for her. She was in a tough spot.
The princess then turned back, her face hardening, eyes staring straight ahead, still keeping silent.
“Ah, I see you will not be cooperative.” The lion-man raised a hand to strike . . .
Javin lunged but was held back.
“Saballa!" Siri' Bhu blurted, "I will tell you what you need to know. Just don't harm the princess -- or this man, either.”
“Oh,” said the lion-man, turning to sneer at Siri’ Bhu, “and why not?”
Siri’ Bhu paused. Having saved the princess from a blow, she seemed startled and didn’t know what else to say. The man raised his hand again and Siri’ Bhu shouted. “We found him in the jungle!"
The man lowered his hand as Siri continued. "We don’t know who he is or where he came from . . . and neither does he. That is all we know.”
The man glared at Siri’ Bhu, then the princess, before turning back to Javin. “Well, ‘tis a pity no one seems to be making any sense."
One of the chameleon men came up and whispered in the man's ear. He seemed to anger then drew himself upright. "Well, I wish I could spend more time to learn who and what you really are, but my orders were explicit: find the princess and bring her back. I can ill afford to waste any more time with you, hhumahn bheingg.”
He nodded to the chameleon man who'd come forward. "Kill him," he commanded.
The chameleon man pounded a fist across his breast in salute and stepped toward Javin, drawing his dagger and raised it high, about to plunge it into Javin’s bare breast.
Javin strained, saw a blur of movement. “Noooo!” The blade flashed downward, and the jungle was pierced by a scream of agony. Javin realized the scream was coming from him.
***
The dim glow of the cavern faded slowly. Tiny pinpoints of light imbedded in the walls flickered briefly then began to die, suffusing in darkness Chahzuu’s lifeless form sprawled on the dirt floor. His outstretched hand was barely beyond reach of the now empty crystal.
The light continued to fade, and inky darkness fell on the room. Suddenly a tiny spark flashed in the center of the crystal.
A flickering spark began to pulse, and with each pulse, it grew, building with ever-increasing intensity until the crystal scintillated with blinding white flashes. Crisp shadows danced with every flash, as if the crystal had drained the energy of the room -- and the very air around it -- to power itself again.
Chahzuu’s body remained still. Then a tiny spasm of movement came from his outstretched hand – a feeble flexing of a finger stretching, reaching for the source of the light.
It strained, moved closer, pulsing with the crystal. Stretching, stretching, until the trembling finger brushed the crystal . . .
A tremendous gasp convulsed Chahzuu’s body as he took in a deep lung-full of air. With a spasmodic movement, his hand closed over the crystal, clutching it as life energy melded back, filled him with the tiny kernel of life he'd set into the crystal right at the last instant.
It was his core essence – all that he truly was, deep down, nothing hidden, nothing false.
It all came surging back through the clutched, scintillating crystal in his palm. The light was so bright it outlined his flesh, highlighting the bone underneath.
Ecstasy filled his soul at being once again united with his body. He trembled in relief. And still the energy coursed, replenishing strength, though he dared not move for fear it hadn't been real.
Chahzuu lay still for a time. The crystal had stopped glowing. The transference was complete, and he was enveloped in the darkness.
Finally, he allowed himself to move, feeling oddly refreshed. He felt better than ever. That surprised him considering what he'd gone through. Why? He wondered. Then it hit him. All his old inner barriers and falsehoods had been stripped away. There had been nothing left to place within the crystal other than that kernel of his true, most basic self. He felt strangely free. But he also saw himself now, with no bias, no pressure to be . . . He just was -- and grateful for it!
Chahzuu sat up, still in the dense dark, holding the crystal up in his open palm.
There was a bare hint of light in its center, the only thing keeping the chamber from utter darkness. Then the chamber walls seemed to flicker. The tiny pinpoints of light faintly started growing, as if the energy the crystal had drawn was now finished and the power could now return to the chamber.
How can such be done? Chahzuu marveled. Praise the Guardians! As the last light flickered and died from the crystal the chamber was again as light as before, and the crystal was completely clear now . . . Except, when Chahzuu studied it, he could barely make out the gray, scintillating veins again. The crystal was different than he’d seen in his visions, yet it had saved his life. And he hoped the last gasping thrust he’d sent out at Nemesis had at least given him a headache.
Remembering Nemesis, he quickly glanced around the room. It was empty save for himself. Then looking back at the crystal, he wondered if it had been damaged – if it would still function as he needed it to function.
His dreams had been hop
elessly shattered. Nothing remaining as he’d seen before . . . only that he had died? Did I die? He wondered.
Should I still merge? Will it kill me? If it were whole would Nemesis have left it? These thoughts all ran through his mind as he stared intently down into the crystal's clear depths.
I must proceed, he thought. My people are in danger more than ever! Calming his mind and focusing his concentration on the crystal, he sent his thoughts into it.
You are mine – I am yours – we shall be one.
Still seated on the dirt floor, he sat upright, back rigid, drawing his palm, holding the crystal near his breast, chin high, head back, eyes closed. The crystal began glowing, rapidly blaring into brilliant light the closer it came to Chahzuu’s breast. A flash erupted, illuminating the whole room as it contacted exposed flesh.
Chahzuu found himself surrounded by brilliant white. No contrast to anything. He couldn’t tell if he was in a large chamber, a vast open area, or small confined space with no hint of dimension. What is happening? Nothing like this had ever been in any of his dreams. Then he felt he wasn’t alone and a gentle, caressing thought crossed his mind in words, anticipating his thoughts.
‘Your visions are not the actual future. They’re dim projections of what may be. All are free and determine their own path.’
Chahzuu pondered a moment, then opened his mouth, trying to speak, trying to ask a question. Nothing would come out. His voice was gone. Was it the void?
In answer to his silent thought, the voice again entered his mind. ‘You are no longer whole -- yet more than whole. The crystal was used in a way it was not intended, yet you made it work for you, again through sheer strength of will. That is why you have been chosen.’
Chahzuu blinked and closed his mouth. These must be the Guardians!
‘Yes, we are.'
'Did you send my dreams?'
'We did not.'
'Then where did they come from?'
'The Source.'
'Source? What is that?'
'It's the Source; the source of . . . everything. Your visions are why we sought you out.'
'But you're the Guardians! Aren't you the Source?'
'No. The Source is . . . Greater. Much greater. We are . . . between.'
'What does that mean?'
There was silence, and Chahzuu felt the presences around him seemed nervous. 'Please tell me. I don't understand.'
The silence continued.
'You must help my people -- my world!’ Chahzuu directed his thoughts outward.
‘We cannot,’ the gentle thought caressed, a hint of sadness seeming to sweep through in tone. ‘We are under attack from forces you cannot at this time comprehend. But you have been chosen.’
‘Chosen for what?’ Chahzuu glanced around, trying in vain to see the speaker.
‘Chosen and Promised.
Chahzuu recognized the emphasis on the words. Words he recognized from his learning of the great prophecies.
'You and others,' The Guardian continued. 'Especially The One. To help us combat the greater evil sweeping through all our realms.'
Chahzuu cocked his head as the thoughts continued to brush his mind.
'We are fighting hard, yet losing, and we need strength – a powerful strength you do not yet realize deep within. You must find it. We have not the power to bring it out.’
‘Bring what out?’ Chahzuu was confused. There was no answer. He waited.
‘Will we win?’ Chahzuu asked in his mind, worried at the revelation that his once believed almighty Guardians may not be supreme after all.
‘What is winning?’ the thought filled his mind. ‘Winning is but the continuation of the precious right to choose one’s path, to be free, to emerge and evolve in knowledge, growth, happiness.’
'Then what is losing?’ Chahzuu thought.
‘We will show you.’
Immediately he was hit with a wall of blackness, powerful, surging, encompassing, snuffing out all life before it. Chahzuu couldn’t breath. He felt himself suffocating, his body being crushed . . .
Gasping and heaving, he tried to cry out with his mind; then abruptly the brilliant white returned, and he took a deep, life-saving breath.
There was silence in his mind as Chahzuu drew in breath after precious breath, trying to make sense of what he had just experienced.
‘Losing . . . is ceasing to exist,’ the voice came to his mind.
Trembling Chahzuu looked around again, still not seeing anything but white.
‘Will we survive?’
The voice came back in his mind, quieter still, yet just as piercing.
‘Unknown. We do not understand its advance and know of no way to stop it. Yet each world, each race, must be given its chance to fight.’
‘How?’ Chahzuu pressed.
‘Unknown,’ the answer came back tinged with deep sadness. ‘You have the right to try. The Crystal will help you become more than you are; all you can be.’
‘How do we fight?’ Chahzuu was at a loss for words, remembering and fearing only the emptiness he could not describe.
‘Unknown. But there is a chance.’
‘What? What is it?’ Chahzuu desperately thought.
‘It rests with the Two.’
Chahzuu’s eyes widened.
‘Two of the One – One of the Two. One of the blood yet Two of the spirit.’
Chahzuu’s eyes furrowed, thinking this must mean something.
‘It does,’ the voice caressed.
‘My dreams!’ Chahzuu thought, hope springing forward.
‘Yes. Your dreams. The Pale Ones.’
‘But what does it mean?’ Chahzuu pressed.
‘We don't know. We’ve only the glimpses of your dreams. But you will know. You and the other Promised Ones. Only that brings a chance. You all must help The One and also Two. Only that may turn the tide.’
‘How?’
‘Unknown. You must try. You and the others, or all is lost.’
‘But the dreams?’
‘From the Source. We're not sure we understand either. There are so few Dreamers now. Only a hint of the future; things that may be. It’s your choices, your power that will make it so. Yours and the One.’
A silence came over Chahzuu’s mind like a warm blanket, and the light began to dim, grow bleary, until everything faded to darkness. He panicked, thinking the invading void had somehow found him. Then a thought soothed across his mind.
'Peace.' A glowing warmth settled within his breast, burning outward, calming him to his core.
The light began to grow again, taking on definition. Chahzuu recognized the chamber's walls with their tiny pinpoints of light. He felt the dirt floor of the cavern, and glancing down, saw his palm was empty. He had merged.
Chapter 7
Javin strained, saw a blur of movement. “Noooo!” The blade flashed downward, and the jungle was pierced by a scream of agony Javin realized was his own -- but not for himself.
The dagger had buried itself in Siri’ Bhu’s back, who'd broken free and leaped between him and his executioner. She fell forward, her arms wrapping around Javin, her head resting against his breast. Her voice gasped. “Mulda' fi, you must protect us – save our people.” She slumped to the dirt.
“You animal!” Javin strained to break free and dive on the wolfish leader.
“Calm yourself,” Saballa gestured and the guard cuffed Javin again several times across the face, causing him to slump in the arms of his captors.
“Mulda' fi, did she say?” Saballa said as Javin struggled to stand on his feet again. “This is interesting. Perhaps I won’t kill you today after all." Then he nodded to another guard. “Bind him firmly. This one has strength. It's something Trantha’ Joh must see. If the Keeper figures this is a Mulda' fi, it bears study.” His eyes narrowed. “Yes, detailed study.
"Princess…” he said, turning back to where the princess was held, tears straining her cheeks as she stared dumbly at her friend’s blood stain
ing the dirt a copper color.
“Princess, do you believe this is one of the Promised Ones?”
Mouhra’ Lah blinked then stared back defiantly at Saballa, answering nothing, chin held high.
“No answer, eh? Well . . . I’ve instructions to bring you back unharmed so I can’t question you the way I’d like.” His eyes looked menacing. “Perhaps another time your uncle will indulge me.”
“Javin was right – you are an animal!”
Saballa only smiled, gave the orders. “Everyone assemble. Prepare to move out. Bind the Princess,” Saballa nodded to another guardsman, a strong chord in his hand. “See to the wounded. Leave the rest. The jungle will clean up after us. The Emperor wants the Princess back now and we have at least a ten-day march ahead." The soldiers sprang to life.
Mouhra’ Lah’s eyes widened at the mention of 'Emperor'. “So, my uncle has seized power already?”
Saballa turned back. “Only to a few who serve him. Soon, with your . . ." he hesitated slightly, "…cooperation, it will become so with the rest of our people. From there it will be little more effort to unite all cities under our beloved new 'Emperor'.”
“You serve no one but yourself, Saballa! You grasp power wherever you can. Why not help me? I can reward you far more surely than my Uncle!"
Saballa held a hand to his breast, affecting hurt. “Oh, you’re wrong, Princess, I have nothing but the sincerest devotion to our Emperor. I am certain only he can lead us -- all people -- to the path of enlightenment.” Then a smile of irony crossed his face and he gestured for the soldiers to form up.
“What about Siri’ Bhu? She could still be alive. No one's checked her. We must see!” The princess strained in the hold of her guards.
Ignoring her pleading, Saballa barked, “Move out.” He glanced at Javin, who stared piercingly, eyes smoldering with anger.
Javin was bound, he could do nothing for anyone now, but he vowed he would do something, someday to pay Saballa back and avenge the sacrifice Siri’ Bhu had made for him.
***
Unseen eyes watched from the edge of the camp as the Pontu’ Gi soldiers formed up and started through the jungle. As soon as the foliage obscured them from sight, Sohorkon’ Boh leaped from his hiding place, quickly advancing to the prone figure lying in the dirt. His well-muscled arms reached out, gently turning Siri' Bhu over and tearing a piece from his ragged and torn uniform, holding it tightly against the wound to stanch the flow of blood.
