by Mussie Haile
“See?” Mikko said.
“Ah,” Hermon said, flushing with embarrassment.
“I did not know that,” Siem said. “Are you seeing this, Eldana? He willingly chose to come along, even though he knew this was a fool’s cause.”
She turned to Mikko. “And did anyone force you, Mikko?” she asked.
Mikko wanted to tell her that he had come along with them because of her, and was still in it, well partly, because of her. But he shook his head in the negative instead.
Now is not the time, he thought.
Siem faced Eldana. “And this is after he had been taken by the elves for being with us.”
She turned back. “I should ask Hermon.” She said, “but that would also mean asking myself. Since we three have been together for such a long time.”
Eldana had long since gotten the purpose of the lecture and was feeling embarrassed about what she had said.
Siem faced her finally. “None of us are children, Eldana. You did not twist our ears till we cried and force us to come with you. We chose this. Do you hear it? We.”
Siem and Eldana exchanged stares in silence until Eldana looked away. “Now, I do not want to hear another word from you about this. We have a being of Balance and Chaos to meet.”
Eldana smiled awkwardly, her embarrassment clear on her face. “Come here,” Siem said, widening her arms for an embrace.
Eldana walked into it and buried her face deep in Siem’s shoulders. Hermon, touched by the show of fidelity, went in and encircled both of them in his wide arms.
Mikko was about to join in the group hug when D’rmas placed a restraining hand on his arm. Mikko faced him, and Hermon nodded in the negative. Mikko fell back in place beside D’rmas.
“Erm, guys,” Mikko called, the tone of alarm creeping into his voice. “I think we are…”
The ship lurched violently, throwing everybody to the side. Even Eldana, Siem, and Hermon, who were tangled in a hug, were broken apart.
Eldana groaned as her shoulder ached from the impact of her fall. She flexed it as she sat up, and then asked:
“What was that? Another storm?”
“Right now, I do not know if I would prefer the storm to this,” Siem said.
Eldana followed the direction of Siem’s gaze, and then caught sight of the company of two ships heading with unbelievable speed towards them. A sudden spume of water burst from the calm sea’s off their port bow.
“They’re shooting cannonballs at us!” D’rmas observed, before running for the steering wheel.
“Do you know how to do that!?” Mikko cried in alarm.
“Fear not, Mikko. You will not be swimming today. Not yet.”
“Do you know how to pilot a ship?” Eldana asked.
“A little.” the Free Warrior gruffly shouted back.
The rest of the company looked at each other unanimously in surprise.
“You could, and you did not say anything?” Siem asked. “Even when we almost died?”
D’rmas turned back to them. “First, we did not die. Second, I am familiar with the rubrics of piloting a ship! I do not know how to ride one professionally or steer efficiently out of a storm. But the occasion calls for desperate measures, and I am taking one.”
He turned and drew back a lever a little off the bottom left of the wheel. The lever controlled the steering of the ship between a physical manning, and the basic manning of the ship, where the ship steered itself. There was a grumbling sound within the ship, the only mechanical and rugged sound from a vessel which was sleek and tall, with the head of a swan as its prow.
“Now, get yourselves busy,” he said, as the ship lurched forward, beginning to pick up speed as they felt her slice through the waves.
Eldana, Siem, and Mikko turned towards the pursuing ships, and devoted their attention, in magic and strategy, to them. Mikko manipulated the water to try and parry the cannonballs from the air. With magic, raised an energy wall that should protect them from further damage. Siem went into attack mode and started to whisper magical power into her arrows. Though not as powerful over sea, demon arrows still could create damage. She decided to hit the bigger of the two boats. The arrow slit through the water like a knife through butter, but it never reached the destination. They had their own protection shield. Even the second or the third demon arrow never went through.
“They have powerful mages on board. I can tell you that.” Siem was saying, more to herself than anyone.
While all of them were on the offensive, Hermon just paced the ship, helpless, and furious at having to do nothing.
Suddenly, Eldana felt a sharp spike of pain in her ribs. She screamed and fell to her side. Siem abandoned the attack before her and stooped.
“What is the matter?” Siem asked, concern flooding her face.
“I do not know.” Eldana cried, turning, and clutching at her ribs. “I do not know.”
Mikko turned. “What is the problem?” he asked, still using his hands to wave tentacles of water wildly in the air.
“Mikko!” Hermon cried, pointing forward.
Mikko turned just in time to intercept a cannonball that was heading directly towards them. Mikko did not turn back anymore. He focused on the ships, who were now closer than before.
“D’rmas faster,” Hermon yelled. “They are gaining on us!”
Siem looked out at the pursuing ships. She could spot both a company of battle-eager orcs on the decks, as well as a company of the elite warriors of the Middle.
“Not now.” She moaned, turning to face Eldana who was still crying. “Where does it hurt?” she asked her.
“It burns. It burns.” Eldana cried.
“Where?” Siem asked. “Tell me, Eldana. Try. I need to do something.”
Just then, one of the cannonballs, slammed into the hull of a ship, smashing a gaping hole right through the hull.
“I do not know.” Mikko said, fear beginning to creep into his voice, “just what these balls are made of, but they are trumping any protection spells!”
“Mikko, watch out,” Hermon cried out again.
Mikko stared, rooted to the spot as a cannonball hurtled directly towards him.
Hermon dashed across the deck to him, and diving, pushed him out of the way of the incoming shot. The ball smashed a hole in the deck where Mikko had been standing.
The ship lurched forward, pushing Siem onto Eldana’s body. D’rmas turned and found that the pursuing ships had caught up with them. The ships behind were faster and were closing in. From fifty feet away, they had inched closer to six feet behind them, almost touching...
“They are here! They are on us!” the Free Warrior warned.
The first orc that jumped on to the board got a dagger to his forehead. He fell backwards into the waves without even making a sound.
Siem looked at the influx of orcs and soldiers and knew this was one attack they were less likely to hold off.
“Mikko.!” She called, getting to her feet.
Mikko ran to her.
“The Princess! Take her away from here!” Siem cried out.
“To where?” Mikko asked.
“To Piece Island.” Siem gasped as she fired one arrow into the throat of one boarding orc, then another, and another.
“That is going to be difficult. Extremely difficult. And we do not have the time for that nor can I jump that far.”
An orc roared as it stepped on board.
“Do it. I will give you time. Just jump from horizon to horizon.” Siem said.
Mikko nodded. Stooping, he hovered his hand over Eldana’s writhing body and began to cast a spell. Siem stood in front, protecting Mikko and Eldana, and nocked another arrow.
“Come on!” She yelled at the orcs.
D’rmas was already engaged with a few of the Middle Kingdom wa
rriors. They had come with the orcs and the ship was in disarray. They moved about, trading blows and evasive manoeuvres with alarming speed. An orc dashed towards where Siem stood, and she shot an arrow straight through his head and expertly notched another. While she attacked Siem changed into a living fireball and killed another orc by burning his flesh from his face.
Hermon began to scream in pain. Blood streamed down fresh cuts appearing over his body as he began to transform.
Suddenly, a mage in a dark hooded robe, and a staff in hand, jumped onto the ship and stood in front of him. Shouting words of forbidden magic, he slammed Hermon with a wave of energy. Hermon flew backward and crashed on the floor and screamed as his body began to shrink back to its normal size.
“Boy!” the man in the dark robe yelled. He climbed onboard and pulled down his hood. Lord Taboon stood with daring confidence on board Eldana’s ship, a victorious smile on his face.
“Mikko! I see you, you ungrateful little bastard!” Lord Taboon snarled.
“Continue,” Siem said to him, barely turning back. She whispered a strengthening spell on her arrow and sent it flying towards Lord Taboon. Just then, another man jumped in front of him, plucking the arrow from thin air.
Siem stared wide-eyed as Sinto stared back at her, pinching the arrow between his fingers. They came prepared.
“Where is she? The Princess!” Sinto demanded.
“You cannot have her,”Siem said, standing over Eldana’s form, and sheltering the mumbling, incanting Mikko.
“I do not see how you are going to ensure that,” Sinto said.
“Look around you. You are grossly outnumbered.” Lord Taboon said. “You are an excellent mage, Siem, but not even you can stand against two master mages, as well as our elite warriors of the Middle, and our orcish allies, too.”
“Try me,” Siem growled back, her eyes steely.
“You just have to hand the girl over.” Lord Taboon said. “We have no wish to harm you.”
Siem smiled. “Who said anything about you harming me?” she asked.
“I gave you a chance,” Lord Taboon said.
Lord Taboon and Sinto sprinted forward at the same time. It was like they shared one mind.
“Now, Mikko, get her away!” Siem screamed and exploded in a ball of fire.
Mikko yelled and with all his energy disappeared with Eldana in a flash of light.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Shewit, the Life of the First
There was no one person more integral to the continuation of Toas existence than the being of Balance and Chaos. Since their birth of time, each being of Balance and Chaos had through their ultimate sacrifice ensured that the doors of chaos were kept firmly shut, so the legend goes.
But one thing most people did not know was that the birth of a being of Balance and Chaos was as much a thing of sorrow and pain as it was a thing of joy. Of course, the majority of the people in the cities that made up Toas would rejoice and jubilate. Their messiah, the means to their continued existence had just been brought into the world. They were once again safe. Their future was safe. But if they would pause and listen attentively, they would pick out the cries of pain and sorrow. They would know that the being of Balance and Chaos were not children plucked out of trees – indeed, that they belonged to parents, and had siblings, families...
It was with such pain that a peasant farmer and his wife gave out their newly born daughter. The people who would oversee the training of the girl stood outside their farmhouse, waiting, their faces devoid of any trace of emotion. The father’s eyes were moist with tears. The mother held her baby and wept uncontrollably, as she stepped out of the house to meet the people who would take her away. But they were both helpless. Everyone that had visited them the night before had made them see that. Other families had let a child go for the good of the entire world. Why could they not do the same? To refuse their child to fulfil her destiny was to go against the whole world. They had no choice but to give in and do what was right. It had never happened like this before; beings of both Balance and Chaos were usually of royal blood, but when he found the mark of chaos on the child’s body, the peasant knew it was only a matter of time.
Their leader, a strong stout man stepped out from the rest of the group.
“You put her to sleep using what I showed you?’ the leader asked.
“Yes,” the man replied.
“Good,” the leader replied. “She should sleep peacefully throughout the length of the journey.”
The father narrowed his eyes. An idea had just come to him; an idea that would assure him that his girl was going to be properly taken care of.
“What is your name, sir?” the father of the being of Balance and Chaos asked.
The leader of the group stared at the father for a while before he replied:
“Lull. My name is Lull.”
The father stepped forward so he could stare Lull clearly in the eyes.
“Promise me,” the man said. “as one man to another man, that you will take care of my daughter.”
Lull sighed.
“We take care of all the being of Balance and Chaos,” he replied. “We’re employed for this very purpose, to see the growth and happiness of them. Why else do you think they live in the King’s palace? They stay there to receive everything they could ever ask for. All the care they need, no matter how minute, we supply them. It is the small price we pay for their ultimate sacrifice.”
The father and Lull stared into each other’s eyes for some three seconds before they broke eye contact. The father went back to his wife’s side to console her.
And then placing a firm supporting hand on her shoulder, he walked with her as she moved towards Lull. As she neared him, Lull rose both his hands a bit in the air. They stopped somewhere close to his chest, upturned, with the palms facing upward and the back of his hand facing downwards. And then the child’s mother placed the baby in Lull’s arms.
“Shewit,” she told Lull.
“What?” Lull asked, looking puzzled.
The mother sniffed.
“I said Shewit,” she repeated. “Her name, the name of the child is Shewit.”
Lull stared at her, and the woman stared back. Lull could see the fire in her eyes, and he knew that this woman was ready to brave almost anything for her child.
‘Fine,” he replied. “Shewit is her name. The whole of Toas lies at your feet today for this sacrifice you have made for the kingdom. We will never forget you.”
Such is the way of things, Lull thought; the way of necessity.
As the men drove away with their Shewit, it dawned heavily on the couple that they would not be seeing their daughter ever again.
The woman turned her face, buried it into her husband’s chest, and cried. Her husband simply stared ahead, watching the company of horsemen as they carried on down the road, growing into tiny dots until they disappeared once and for all. He sighed and bent down to kiss the top of his wife’s head. He did not tell her it was okay. Because in truth, it was not. He felt just as bad without the tears. Their only hope at having a semblance of peace was in each other.
Now the being of Balance and Chaos had come into the palace, everyone set making sure that everything was okay for her stay in the palace. She was their savior after all and deserved to be given all the adoration and the worship before the event that would shape the entire kingdom, and even that was years ahead from now.
The moment Lull brought Shewit into the palace, even before he had mentioned her name, Lady Adiam, the woman in charge of the child’s housekeeping, sensed that this being of Balance and Chaos was going to be a different child. When she had whispered it to the other ladies in attendance:
“I’ve got a feeling this one is going to be different from the others.”
“Why?” one of them asked. “Because it is Lull who carries her
himself and not one of his men?”
Lady Adiam snorted. “You have not lived as long as I have,” she said. “Or you would know the carrier of the child handles the babies only if collection is more difficult.”
“You mean those whose parents refuse to give them up?”
“No,” Adiam replied, rolling her eyes, “it’s not that. In all my years as housemistress, I have never heard of parents who have refused their children the chance to be a hero of Toas. Usually, it is seen as a great honor. But some never wanted that for their child, those who are giving them up will be emotionally difficult. The carrier of the child intervenes for those. Somehow, his presence should make letting the child go, a little easier.”
“Okay,” the others agreed. “But why did you say this one is different?”
“She is not crying,” Adiam replied shrewdly.
Just then, Lull explained to the king (who had been curious about the child’s silence) that the baby had been given a sleeping drug to prevent her cries from getting to the parents and making an already difficult situation worse.
The ladies in attendance turned and giggled at Adiam. There was a more tangible reason as to why the baby had kept mum all the while. This was much better than her unjustifiable hunch that the child was different. But even then, Adiam felt it within her bones that the girl, soporifics or no, was different.
It did not take long for her hunch to become a reality. Everyone began to see the difference as Shewit grew. In retrospect, the beings of Balance and Chaos that had graced the court before had always been exuberantly joyful and playful girls. These behaviours stood to change as they grew older, but in their younger years, they would always constitute most of the noise in the palace, squealing and running about, taking their caretakers through a lot of trouble, while also reminding them the joy of what it felt to be young and free.
But not Shewit.
Shewit was quiet and reclusive, choosing to keep things to herself no matter how weighty than to confide in another soul. It was easier to get words out of her mouth during training, and that was either because the specific moves she wanted to make required spells, or her teachers had asked her a question. Her quietness made it difficult for her caretakers to give her fitting care. Lady Adiam three hundred years of age allowed her to see three other beings she had taken care of, each one expressing what they liked or disliked, moaning, laughing, or complaining – but not so with Shewit, who would move through her care passively.
