Alright, here we go, chapter 6. Once again, this is not my book, Heart of Light belongs to Dr. Charlie Starr, I make no money off of this, blahblahblah. Now, on with the show!
Strength and Weakness—chapter 6
To a person passing by, it would probably have appeared as though Akiru were arguing with herself. She was furiously pacing back in forth in the Private Gardens, muttering. Was she allowed in there? No. Would she be punished severely if caught there without permission? Most likely. But at the moment, Akiru did not care what these creatures did to her. She was too infuriated to bother with the idea. And if she was going to rant, she was going to do so in a place that felt comfortable. The Private Gardens were one of the few places in this nightmarish world that were not contaminated by steel and stone. No, she wasn't mentally unsound; she was simply having a heated argument with Someone of much greater importance than any mortal ruler who thought himself to be so.
"He is hopeless, Master. Hopeless! He is as bent as his mother and more so! You must have been joke-making or joke-making of me, because that man is three times a Bel than any Amric! This is done. This is done! There is no compassion, no Light that can pierce such Darkness."
Philaga. Who is your Master?
Akiru mumbled to herself. "My Maker is my Master."
And what are you to question my knowing? You doubt my sight? I see him, Akiru, for what he can still yet be. Your doing is not yet done. If you are my servant, then hear your Master's voice.
"But Maker," Akiru objected, "did You not see the child? How can any being with a way for right do such wrong? How can my Maker have light in His eyes for one so fallen?"
Philaga…you know.
And she did. After all, it was in her Nature to be understanding of Weakness. "Aya!" she groaned, "fine then! Where is the Royal Pain?"
She could almost feel the Maker smile.
Any person studied in the art of chess will know that each piece has its own unique purpose in the game. Bishops, for example, are supposed to be analytical, strategic, tactful. Knights are supposed to be quick and agile, willing to die for the sake of protecting the King. Rooks are supposed to work alongside the King, behind the scenes, watching for signs of weakness. Pawns are supposed to be subservient to the King, loyal, dutiful, humble…expendable.
But even in a perfect game, there is, on occasion, one piece that will act out of its place. Every so often, one member will become upset with its position and make a bold, albeit foolish move. The end result of such sabotage is, quite often, the death of the King.
Atrist was not king yet, but he was visible enough to be seen as a means of persuasion to affect change. And Jude Iscariot was a very desperate man. The idea of a Guardsman rebelling was not only unthinkable, it was statistically impossible. Even the infamous ex-Captain of the Forty-fourth Guard at the height of his rage had not thought of actually harming his Charge. Iscariot had been trained and chipped like every other Forty-fifth Guardsman from birth, but his transformation seemed to have malfunctioned. Or maybe it had never fully taken affect at all. Perhaps his Archéan DNA was a bit too strong, too old for the brainwashing to completely take hold. Often, Archéans weren't even allowed in the Guard; they were considered too intelligent for their own good. A keen observation; a Bishop should never also be a Knight.
But Jude was incredibly talented at strategizing; his grey eyes never missed a detail, making him a remarkable asset to the Crown Prince's personal Guard. Some people said that he did it for fanatical religious reasons; however, the reasons why he did it are not relevant for present purposes. One only need realize that he was desperate to make a point, and his intended banner was to be the Crown Prince himself.
Jude had arranged everything perfectly; no one could fault his planning. It seemed that the Prince had deemed it necessary to apprehend this Kalliphi woman, whom they had discovered (to Atrist's further rage) was here in the Private Gardens. Atrist was on his way here now. Jude shifted his weight in the branches of one of the tropical trees which overlooked the pool where the Kalliess was dipping her feet. He moved his plasma sniper rifle into position, setting his cheek on the stock, lining up the infrared sight with the prospective path of his prey. The Prince had been in the north wing when he had discovered her location; he would come along the northern path to apprehend her. Jude had calculated the exact amount of time it would take the Prince to cross from the covered path to the pool—exactly 11.23 seconds of no cover, no protection. It was more than enough.
Akiru decided that before she was going to get up to find his Royal High and Mightiness, she was going to soak her feet. Furious pacing does, after all, tend to blister something horrible. Besides, Akiru would spring at any chance she got for taking those pinchy slippers off her feet. She gingerly pealed off the horrid footwear and dipped her soles in the icy pool. Ah…what good it is to rest, even for just a moment.
Good moments don't last as long as they used to. No sooner had she thought this than the Crown Prince himself appeared through the dense foliage at the far end of the path. His piercing gaze scoured the terrain until his emerald eyes locked onto shining gold. Her own anger having subsided, Akiru's face was perfectly calm, serene even. His look could crack bone.
"Kalliess," his tone was frigid, "your brazen impertinence never ceases to amaze. I do not think that you fully comprehend who it is that you are dealing with."
Neither do you, she thought tersely, but said nothing.
"I find it interesting," he continued, slowly making his way forward, "that you even decided to come to this planet in the first place. It is quite rare to see a Kalli away from her home world. Most of your kind stay hidden away from the rest of the universe, concealed in their precious trees like monkeys. Though perhaps that is the best option…for the sake of the civilized."
Akiru couldn't tell if he was trying to insult her or merely stating what he thought to be fact.
"At any rate, perhaps in your ignorance you fail to understand the weight of your indiscretion. By disregarding a direct order and purposefully disobeying your Charge, you have earned yourself a level ONE reprimand. Do you realize that?"
At her lack of response, he continued. "Perhaps you are not aware of what such a punishment entails. Allow me to inform you: a level one reprimand involves the offender being submerged up to the neck in a bath of nerilic acid. The chemical is so potent that no one can survive contact with its pure form any longer than a few seconds. Therefore, we dilute it to such a degree that it can be withstood for up to five minutes without burning off one's skin. Not that you'll die, of course, but I am told the burns are so severe that the offender must wear nothing but loose rags for two years after such treatment. Granted, only two other people have ever gone through such an ordeal, but of course—" he glared at her, "—few are foolish enough to require it."
Jude was growing impatient. Guards would be coming soon to officially arrest the girl. Come on, keep moving.
Akiru said nothing in response. In fact, she had not reacted at all during his entire address, a fact which both puzzled and served to annoy him further. She simply sat there with her feet in the pool looking at him, or through him, with those wide, piercing eyes of Light.
Finally, she spoke. "You are torn, you know…inside. I see you." She rose from the pool, feet dripping. "Your mind tells you things. Do this, think as so. It tells you good ways are foolish, bad ways are power. But your mind is lying, and you know it."
He was stone. She walked slowly.
"Kalli have sayings. 'Pitied is a man who is the victim of a warring self.' Your mind speaks lies, but your heart sees them. Inside you. Deep. You see your ways are wrong."
"You proclaim your own foolishness, woman," Atrist spat at her.
Akiru smirked, "Another Kalli saying: 'A Fool is he who rejects good wisdom.'"
Her arrogance was astounding.
She continued, "You ask my purpose for coming. I tell you truth: I am the daughter of my paipé, Solomon. I am the Philaga, Daughter of Compassion, and I have come as a witness against the Darkness inside you."
That's it. A little closer.
"Compassion is weakness," Atrist walked towards her. "You are a savage, Kalliess. You wouldn't understand the concept of true power. You don't know what it means to have the universe in your palm. Do you think the Amric Dynasty would still be in power after forty-five generations if we had allowed such imperfections to remain within us? Our children are flawless. Our race has supreme strength!"
"Your children are lightless monsters and your race is dying. You are dying!"
Sooner than he thinks. Keep walking.
Akiru's heart swelled for this man. This beautiful, half-formed creature who lacked innate Being. "You are not a monster, Prince Atrist. You are twisted, bent in your self, but not corrupted. Not completely. Not yet! I can see you; the Maker was right! You still have time!"
They are fifteen feet, two inches apart. He is almost clear of the trees.
"You have to see. You must see! Your heart is not all Darkness like your mother. You can change. You have no need to be bent—no need to be weak anymore!"
Atrist advanced on her, "Who do you think you are? Do you think a little worm like you can falsely condemn my people, myself, and the Supreme Empress of the universe? You impudent fool!
I will kill you MYSELF!"
He sprang towards her, leaving the safety of the trees.
Hands moved, sights locked.
What happened next was, to Akiru, in slow motion. There was a foreign noise—a strange 'click'. She turned over her shoulder at a pace that seemed too slow, like trying to turn around in a current. She saw the man in the tree. Imperial guards don't belong in trees. She saw him aiming. She saw his look, the one that appears on every hunter just as they are about to—
She didn't think. She didn't breathe. At a certain point, she didn't even feel. Her mind surrendered to her heart, and in that moment she understood what she was about to do and did it anyway. She anchored her bare feet deep into the wonderful soil and pushed, lunging back towards the man that was trying to strangle her. She knew it was coming, so she closed her eyes.
Suddenly, being strangled to death didn't sound so bad.
She didn't hear the gun fire. She didn't see Atrist's reaction when she barreled into him (though it would have been quite amusing). Oh, but she felt plenty! Never in her life had she felt so well! Fire and ice dug a thousand poisonous fangs into stomach, refusing to release her from their jaws, even when she smacked back down onto the unforgivingly hard earth.
Everything unforgettable always seems to happen in a Garden.
Akiru saw soldiers. They were running funny. Apparently the world had turned sideways when she wasn't looking. They quickly took out the would-be assassin, dragging his unconscious form away.
Atrist's face suddenly appeared above her own. His stunning green eyes were wide in shock, and his pale face was even paler than normal. Ebony hair had come loose and was wafting down against her cheek. He gave her an awkward look, one that was meant to appear grateful, but still somehow managed to come across as condescending.
He really is beautiful when he's not trying to kill me,she mused deliriously. Perhaps, he is not quite as monstrous as he was...not quite a Bel, anyway. Akiru smiled to herself.
They sat there awkwardly with no words for quite some time. Silent like that. Healers came and left, shaking their heads in her direction. And so they sat there in silence, Akiru lost in a daze and the Prince lost in his thoughts.
To be frank, Atrist was perplexed. Of course, she had saved him to fulfill her obligation to protect her Charge. That part he understood perfectly. What troubled him was the look on her face when she had done so. After all, she had not received the years of training to die that his other servants and guardsmen had received. But she had not appeared frightened, or worried, or even shocked. She had looked…willing to die. For his sake. It bothered him.
Akiru pulled out of her haze and turned her head to look at him. "I see you, my Lord Atrist."
He frowned, "Do you understand now, you little fool? Compassion gets you shot."
Always the little ray of sunshine.
But she was not so dense. He was trying to block his thoughts from her with hard words, but she saw past them. "You think—" she spat out the blood that was beginning to come up, "was what I did…weak to your eyes?" Oh Maker! Her insides were burning! Flowing…too much blood flowing. Out her stomach. Out her mouth.
He had no answer for her. No one could possibly call such an action weak. "Your actions were not weak, but your intentions were foolish. Did you honestly think to change my mind with such a reckless display? If so, that would be two foolish choices in the same day."
Her eyes were dimming. Was the sun setting so early?
"I…d-didn't want to change—AH!" she gasped in pain. Her lungs weren't working right. "Not change you that way. I wanted to…to…" How strange...my clothes are sticky. How did that happen?
Her mind was drifting.
"What…You wanted what?" he demanded.
Her golden eyes refocused on him, but it was hard—the sun was setting so quickly. "I wanted to…to show you…that…" she grimaced.
But she forced herself.
"Com-p-passion is….
….n-not….
….weakness."
His eyes said that he could see her. She was quite glad. With that thought, she decided to close her eyes.
She was very tired.
And then, she saw Them. There was an old man. He had golden eyes. The Maker was standing beside him. How nice…they're going to walk me home now. I had better not make them wait any longer.
And so, she left.
