by Kealohilani
Her eyes beheld Jharate— as he grabbed the hilt of his sword and twisted it violently. His eyes were full of a deadly rage. Every muscle in his body was tense. When he exhaled, his breaths were quick and powerful, like a bull about to charge.
His jaw was clenched in outrage and indignation as he placed a foot roughly on Asharen’s back and wrenched his sword free. Lani had never seen Jharate this way before. She was thankful to have been saved, but his ferocious appearance frightened her.
“You came for me…”
Her eyes were glazed over and much closer to grey than to their normal brilliant blue. She spoke in a quiet dead tone— unwilling or unable to completely come out of the hiding place in her mind, just in case the rescue she saw in front of her was only a figment of her terrified imagination.
“Of course I came for you.”
His tone conveyed a great depth of protectiveness. His eyes fell into a soft, agonized, tormented gaze as he looked at her. Without another word— he rushed behind the pole she was tied to and loosened the ropes that held her.
As her hands became free they dropped limply to her sides. She closed her eyes and slid down against the smooth post to the ground as streams of tears began to fall. She buried her face in her hands, rocking back and forth softly— but didn’t make a sound.
She didn’t scream, she didn’t sob, she didn’t even sigh. She just kept rocking back and forth, back and forth, over and over again. Even the tears stopped falling as she sat there rocking in the same repetitive overwhelmed motion.
Jharate gently placed his arms around her but she flinched and shrank back from him. Jharate’s face fell into a helpless expression. His brow was knit and his eyes looked tortured— yet he understood.
He closed his eyes and turned his head away. When he opened them again, he saw Lani’s empty sheath on the ground. He had found her sword on his way into the camp. He now stepped forward and quietly reunited the two once again.
He walked carefully back to Lani and slowly handed the belt back to her. She took it in her trembling hands and mechanically buckled it around her waist and looked up at him with her deadened gaze. His throat constricted as he beheld the agony in her lifeless eyes. He motioned for her to follow him out. She reluctantly got up, and obeyed.
They crept quietly behind Lord Asharen’s tent. Jharate found the small door he was looking for and pushed it open. The door had been camouflaged on the other side with a few wild bushes, so that it was invisible to the untrained eye.
Jharate looked out to make sure there was no one there. He peered in both directions and opened the door just a little bit more. The two of them exited and Jharate shut the door behind them.
As Jharate turned to lead the way, three of Lord Asharen’s men rounded the corner. It was too late to hide. The three men drew their weapons and attacked.
Jharate took on two of them— but the third had to be handled by Lani. Suddenly, Lord Asharen was all she could see. His glinting hungry eyes and his twisted toothy smile taunted her until the greatest fury of her life surged through her veins.
The woman fighting now had none of Lani’s composure or calm demeanor. Instead, she had the power and force of a tornado. Their swords clashed until she found the open spot and took it.
She screamed wildly as she lunged forward and plunged her sword into the man’s stomach before violently pulling it out again. He dropped his weapon and stumbled back. In seemingly slow motion, he fell to the ground. As he did so, his face transformed from that of Asharen’s back into the man he actually was.
Lani squealed in horror as she looked at the man on the ground. Realization that she had just unleashed her vengeance on a complete stranger dawned on her all at once. She looked at her dripping sword and shuddered at the sight of his blood on her hands.
She gasped as another kind of shock fell upon her. The point of her sword hit the ground and she stood there— staring off into nothing.
Jharate finished off the two men he was fighting just in time to see Lani kill the third. His eyes widened as he saw the wild power within her.
He cautiously moved into her field of vision and motioned her forward— being careful not to get too close. If he accidentally provoked an attack from her, he would have to stop her— and he did not want to risk her being injured.
Lani picked up her sword and followed him out of the thin line of trees that hid Asharen’s camp from view. They crossed the empty meadow into the surrounding trees on the other side. He slowed until he could be sure she was matching his pace— then they ran together until they reached an enormous tree, dripping with long thin blossoming leafy branches that nearly touched the ground.
Jharate parted the curtain of flowering vine-like limbs and held it open for Lani to walk through. Inside stood its giant trunk, which had a closet-sized hollow. Arante was already there and standing beside it. Jharate guided Lani inside the roomy wooden chamber.
“Wait here. It will conceal you while we free the others. You will be safe here. Wait for me.”
Jharate looked at her with a worried expression— waiting to make sure she understood what he was telling her to do. She nodded, indicating with a vacant look that she would do as he wished.
He ran a short way into the woods. When he returned, there was something with him. As he came back to Lani, it flew up— off of his shoulder— and hovered a few feet above his head, near the roof of the hollow.
It was the size of a grasshopper. However, it looked like a small human man wearing miniature earthy-looking pants and a tunic. His nearly-clear wings sparkled with golden flecks of dust. Suddenly, his entire form began to luminesce and shine until the hollow glowed with a soft warm light.
“This is a fire pixie. They are righteous and honorable beings. He will not harm you. I have asked him to stay here and give you light while I am gone. You will be safe here, Lani. I will return soon.”
She nodded once more, without looking at him. Jharate placed some branches in front of the opening and used vines that were already growing around the base of the tree to camouflage the branches. Lani was now expertly concealed— to the point where not even the light of the fire pixie could be seen by an outside observer. He turned and faced Arante.
“What hap—”
“We must go.”
Arante nodded in response but hesitated. She took one last unnerved glance in Lani’s direction, and then turned— running after Jharate.
Lani started gently rocking back and forth again. Her thoughts fluctuated rapidly between the trauma she had just endured, and the man she had just killed.
Her hands trembled violently as she tried to put her tank back together. She was relieved that she had dressed conservatively, so that there had been two layers to protect her. Still, she felt extremely violated.
She frantically continued her efforts to put the tank back together— as if fixing it would somehow magically undo the horrid injustice that she had just been subjected to. Her hands shook and fumbled over the severed strands until she finally realized that she could not fix it, and burst into uncontrollable sobs.
It was dark when Jharate and Arante stole into the camp, which was now in disarray. Many of the structures and some of the trees that used to hide the camp were on fire and sparks were swirling through the dark night air.
The deaths of Asharen and the three guards had been discovered and some of Asharen’s men had immediately set off in search of the attackers. However, most had begun to quarrel amongst themselves to decide who would be the new ruler. The arguments had quickly escalated into a physical battle for control.
Jharate and Arante took advantage of the confusion and moved quietly over to the pen that held their friends captive. Jharate gripped the enormous bolt and slid it aside. His muscles flexed as he used his massive strength to force open the huge gate.
Once opened, Arante motioned to the rebels to follow her and pointed to where they should go to retrieve their weapons. Each of Lani’s friends glared fiercely a
t Jharate as they crept silently out of the enclosure.
“Lani?” Justin whispered to Arante.
“I’ll explain later. Focus on getting out of here now,” she replied in a hushed but adamant tone.
Justin’s stomach clenched tightly. Did that mean Lani was safe already or that she was dead and Arante didn’t want to risk blowing their rescue mission by triggering painful emotions in Lani’s friends? Asharen didn’t seem like the kind of man to leave someone alive after he was done with them. The thought alone filled him with a boiling rage.
Justin could see Raoul and Kendra were feeling similar feelings. Justin wanted to hurt Jharate right then and there— possibly even kill him if he knew for sure Lani was dead. But he knew that would mean a fight— and one he would not easily win. A fight would call attention to them all, which would probably just get more of his friends killed. He didn’t want to be like Star-Lord on Titan and so he followed, and obeyed Arante’s orders.
As the rebels finally retrieved their possessions and were making their way out of the camp, those of Asharen’s men who had been searching for the culprits noticed the escape. They ran toward the rebels with their weapons drawn.
With a wild fury, Jharate swiftly cut down every man who came at him. Arante calmly marched forward, placing three arrows in her bow at a time. And— as she let them fly— each one sank deep into the chest of each of the three men she aimed at.
Erik stood agape at her superhuman archery skills until Justin smacked him upside the head and handed him his sword. Some of the other rebels also joined in the fight— but the two cousins were practically taking the entire camp down by themselves.
Every soldier who came at the rebels fell— one by one— until all who had noticed their escape lay still. The rebels ran quickly out of the burning camp, crossed the meadow, and disappeared into the woods on the other side. Not only had all of the rebels survived— but not one of them had even so much as a scratch from the battle.
The only men left alive in Asharen’s camp were those who had survived fighting each other for leadership. They had been focused on that goal so fiercely that they hadn’t even noticed the commotion around them.
Finally, two of the three remaining men surrendered, and Brenar Kansata emerged as the winner and would-be Lord of all Kelamosa. He raised his arms in the air— sword held up high— and cheered as he looked around triumphantly.
His mouth fell open and he dropped his arms as he saw the full extent of the destruction around him by the dim light of the glowing embers and the few remaining flames of the dark smoldering camp. He stood there for a moment, bewildered, as he realized that he had only two men left to serve him— but he quickly shrugged it off. After all— what did he care? There were many more soldiers where they had come from.
The rebels followed the cousins to the tree where Lani was hidden. Jharate and Arante parted the leafy curtain and beckoned everyone to come in under the massive umbrella of branches to rest for the night in the safety of the natural camouflage. There was more than enough room for all of them to sleep comfortably and the place had a quiet feeling of peace.
“Arante, would you please provide light for the camp?” Jharate asked.
“Of course, Cousin Jharate.”
Arante moved her hands and threw several delicate brass lanterns with etched glass into the upper area of the canopy. She arranged even more in a spiral around the trunk— until there was a soft warm glow filling the large space. Erik gawked at the lanterns that had materialized from her hands, and wondered why they were all slightly transparent.
“Wow… how did you do that?” Raoul asked.
“It’s my gift.”
“Oh, cool. They look Japanese. How long will they last?”
“Hmmm, until bedtime, I suppose. Each time is different— and it depends on how much I work on it in the first place.”
“That’s amazing!”
“Yes it is. Thank you.”
“Shut up, Raoul! Stop talking to her!” Justin roared, as Arante glared back.
Justin was seething. He saw Jharate making his way towards the tree trunk. Justin’s eyes narrowed and he ran up to Jharate and punched him hard in the face. Jharate staggered back slightly.
“THAT’S FOR LEAVING LANI!”
All of Jharate’s loyal subjects reached for their weapons, but Jharate held up his hand to signal that they were not to interfere in this exchange.
Jharate looked directly into Arante’s eyes to emphasize his wish. Arante and the others reluctantly released their grips on their weapons. However, they stood ready as Jharate turned again to face Justin.
“I had no choice,” Jharate fumed. His words dripped with deep irritation. However, he remained where he was and calmly wiped blood from the corner of his lip. “I could not have saved her or you in any other way.”
“Saved her? I guess you lost count of who you saved during your heroic rescue. LANI’S NOT WITH US! AND YOU DIDN’T EVEN NOTICE THAT?! You acted like you loved her! I was unarmed and I killed a guard trying to save her and all you did was leave her!”
Tears spilled from Justin’s eyes as he mentioned the life he had taken. Justin punched Jharate with everything he had— this time in the stomach.
Again Jharate staggered back— glaring steadily at Justin. Once more, Jharate held up his hand to his people— who had grabbed hold of their weapons again and stepped forward. At his command they stepped back— glowering at Justin— unsure if they would be able to restrain themselves if another outburst occurred.
Jharate stood firm. If it were not for his desire to shield Lani from further anxiety— Justin would be on his back looking up at the tree’s canopy at this precise moment. Well— perhaps not looking.
“I did save her. I saved her before I helped the rest of you.”
“What?”
Jharate growled his answer as he struggled to maintain control over his behavior, despite his immense indignation. Justin had been positive that when Arante had said she’d explain later, she meant Lani was dead.
“Did I not just tell you? She is safe. She is physically unharmed. I did not arrive before she was forced to endure a monstrous ordeal. However, I assure you that Asharen did not get anything he desired from her before he died on my sword.”
“Prove it!”
“Very well… However, you must be silent.”
Jharate had meant to say that everyone should keep quiet. However, in a rare lapse of control, his tongue had gone with his feelings. He shot a pointed look at Justin— who gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes in response.
“She has been hidden here this entire time. As she has not called out to us— she may yet be sleeping.”
Jharate guided Justin around the tree to the hollow and gently moved the vines and branches that had camouflaged her. The fire pixie executed a salute of deference towards Jharate and glowed brighter to better illuminate Lani. There she was, asleep. Her bloodstained sword lay at her side. Her face looked uneasy. Every now and again she sighed a stressed sigh.
Seeing that his best friend was safe— Justin felt a little foolish. He wasn’t ashamed of his defense of Lani. However, he was feeling as if his rash reaction had caused him to insert his foot in his mouth.
He felt a deep blush come across his cheeks and a desire to avoid eye contact at all costs. He was grateful his blushes were something most others could not see. He turned quickly and walked away without another word.
Jharate carefully picked up Lani’s sword from beside her and cleaned it so she would not be reminded of what it had been used for. He noticed that the fire pixie must have already cleaned the blood off of Lani’s hands and face while she slept.
Jharate gave him a grateful nod and whispered his thanks. The fire pixie bowed his head in reply. Jharate sat down against the tree just outside the entrance of the hollow and watched Lani sleep— by the light of the fire pixie— careful to keep a polite distance so that she would not be startled if she woke up unexpectedly.
He felt profoundly grateful that he had gotten there in time to stop Asharen. However, his heart broke because it had truly not been soon enough at all.
Additionally, Jharate knew that the guard had been the first person that Lani had ever killed. Her tortured expression had told him so. He was all too familiar with both the expression and its meaning.
It was the expression that every good person has when they are forced to do something for their survival that they would never do under normal circumstances. The look that conveys that they are devastated and appalled by their own actions.
He had seen it many times on the faces of young men and women in his country during the battles they had fought over the years. He had seen it on his brother’s face during their first time at war together. And Jharate had seen it in the mirror after the first time that armed conflict had forced him to take a life.
He had been only fourteen years of age at the time— and he remembered it as if it were yesterday. And now, he recognized it on Lani’s face. If only he had arrived earlier!
Jharate knew she would have to confront this issue sooner or later. He would be ready to help her when she did. For now, she was asleep. He desperately wished for her sake that she would never have to face danger like this again— yet, he knew better than to hope for a wish like that to be granted.
At a time such as this in his world— there was no safety. He knew that it would not be long before her life would be in peril again.
Aftermath
Chapter Eighteen
Drakne looked over the smoldering remains of Lord Asharen’s camp in the first slivers of the coming dawn. The charcoal trees, which no longer served to hide the fortress. The scorched structures, collapsed onto the blackened earth. The bodies of the soldiers, lying where they had dropped.
Asharen’s personal quarters had only lost one wall— making a sort of morbid diorama— displaying his body on the perfect grass. His open eyes visible from a good distance.
