Lamentation
The ship was beginning to rock violently as it flew through the storm. The winds and rain had driven the ship dangerously close to the churning water, and the stone warriors were having a difficult time keeping it airborne.
Pixal ran through the dark hallway, hoping with all her heart that she was going in the right direction. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest as she forced her feet forward.
Every muscle in her body wanted to turn around and go back to her brother. If she was completely honest with herself, she would say that she had no desire to leave her brother behind. But it was the right thing to do, of course. So she continued running, almost against her own will. She followed her head instead of her heart.
Her reasons for escaping were simple, of course. The ship was close to land. Zane had told her during breakfast that they would be reaching the Dark Island just after sundown. She had decided that she would swim to shore and work out a plan on how to help her brother and Kai escape the Overlord from there. If she continued to submit to the Dark Knight, she would only end up hurting her brother. If she was free, she would be lot more help to them all.
"Cole!" She heard Zane's voice behind her, and knew that her chances of escaping were dwindling to single digits. Her brother had made true on his promise and was now calling his master to help track her down.
She heard Cole's heated, angry voice behind her and ran faster. Her feet pounded up the steps, and she stepped out onto the rainy deck. A strong gust of wind drove her to her knees, and she struggled to get upright.
"Pixal, get back here!" Cole's voice sounded distant because of the wind. "Come back now and I won't punish you!"
There was no way that she would ever listen to that monster. She scrambled to her feet and made her way across the deck slowly, fighting the wind with ever step she took. The ship gave a harsh jolt, and she flew into the air for a long, terrible moment before slamming into the floor. Her vision swirled as she lifted her head and saw the three figures across the deck from her, none faring any better than herself.
She got to her feet and saw that Cole had something in his raised hand. Her heart gave a great leap of terror when she spotted the knife. Don't tell me he's going to try throwing it! She thought to herself. She knew Cole was good at throwing knives, but in these winds, under these circumstances, she was holding on to the hope that Sir Cole would not be able to throw straight.
But as of late, luck had not exactly been working in her favor.
She turned on her heel and ran to the railing, clinging to it with both hands as she gathered her determination and courage for the leap.
"Cole, no!" She heard Zane's desperate voice and wondered what they were fighting about.
She knew the answer only seconds later, where curiosity got the better of her and she turned her head in the direction of Zane's desperate cries. Her heart gave a great leap, and she cursed herself for hesitating. The Dark Knight was running toward her as fast as the wind would allow, knife held above his head as he wound up for the throw. His face was, to her surprise, full of more fear than anger. Was he afraid of losing her?
No, it was something else. Perhaps he was afraid of the storm? But that didn't make sense either, so she gave up on trying to he logical. Smartness never helped a person in this kind of circumstance.
Pixal stood paralyzed with fear as his arm swung toward her, and the hand released the blade.
Perhaps she had underestimated Cole's abilities, because his throw seemed much too accurate and precise to be labeled as 'lucky.'
The knife entered her chest with a loud shriek of metal on metal, and she gasped at the pain as she fell to her knees.
"Pixal!" Zane's voice was desperate and full of horror. "Cole, what have you done?"
Pixal's vision began to swirl with the wind, making her see everything double. She was vaguely aware of someone touching her. It was Zane. He was on his knees next to her, gripping her hand so hard that it hurt. It hurt like the pain in her chest. It was hot and searing, like fire. The rain falling from the sky did nothing to ease that pain.
"Sister, I am so sorry..."
She realized that she had shut her eyes, so she opened them slowly and saw her brother's wet face. She could not tell if it was tears or rainwater that coated his face. It was probably a combination of both. She saw his lips move, but she suddenly was unable to hear a thing. The wind, which still swirled around her body and tousled her blond hair, no longer screamed in its rage. The rain's loud patter was no longer there, although the droplets crashing against her face told her that it still fell in great sheets. The sword must have damaged something deep in her computers, because her body moved spastically as it tried to calculate the damage.
A grating pain in her chest told her that the sword was still there as she lifted her arms and grabbed Zane's shoulders. She used his body as a crutch and got to her feet shakily. The nice thing about being a robot was her ability to function fairly well with such horrific wounds. But she knew her systems were close to collapse, and that she had to hurry before she shut down from trauma. Even androids had their physical limits, and she was close to finding hers.
"I forgive you, Zane." She was not sure if her voice was actually working, since she could not hear a thing. The world was as silent as a morgue as she managed a weak smile and let go of her brother's shoulders. She turned to the railing and took in a raspy breath. She was as good as dead, and she knew it as well as she knew that the man kneeling behind her was her brother.
For some reason, she felt like she still had to leap into the water. It made no sense, because she knew her chances of making it to shore were so slim that she might as well try to teach a pig how to fly. But the urge was so irresistible. She had to jump, because her brother had told her to do so only one minute earlier. She trusted him; and if he wanted her to jump, then nothing would stop her from doing just that.
And so she did. Without any regard for what the fall would do to her, she leaped over the edge of the ship. She dived head first, not allowing herself to acknowledge any of the pain in her chest as her body hit the water with a sickening crunch and everything went black.
Jay opened the door to Nya's workshop not knowing what to expect. Perhaps a few motorized gliders, or something else of that nature. When Lord Kaytake told him and Lloyd that his daughter had obtained a faster mode of transportation than the ship, Jay's curiosity had been piqued.
Jay held the door open for Nya and Lloyd, then shut it behind them. "So what's this flying contraption I've been hearing about?" He asked as he set down the large package of food and other supplies he had carried in with him.
Nya flipped a switch and limped slowly over to the far wall, sweeping her free arm out in grand gesture. "See for yourself," she said.
Jay peered into the dark corner for a moment before Nya flipped another switch, illuminating the large red metal contraption that stood on two sturdy legs, dormant and inert. His eyes widened as he figured out what the thing was. "Wow," was all he could find to say as he let out a short and awkward laugh.
Lloyd joined Nya next to the suit and touched one of the cold metal legs. "You did this all by yourself?" He asked.
Nya laughed lightly. "No, I had some help from Zane."
Jay finally gathered his composure and joined them in the corner. "So you two are seeing each other?" He asked. "You and Zane, I mean?"
Nya gave him a surprised look and blushed slightly. "No," she rushed her answer. "We just like to work together on projects like this. I have no interest in starting a relationship with an andro..." She caught herself and cleared her throat, letting the sentence drop.
Jay's face turned a light shade of red and he looked away. "I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I was out of line, please forgive me. I should not ask such personal questions."
Nya smiled at him and shrugged. "No, I'm fine with it," she assured him. "We are all friends here, and I've always felt that teasing was acceptable among close companions."
Lloyd chuckled. "Yeah, Jay. You should lighten up a bit. It seems as if you've got a million different things you want to say, so why are you holding it in?"
Jay backed up a step, as if in retreat. "Habit, I guess." He said. He did not have the heart to tell her that his question had been dead serious and not a tease. "I was a thief, and I made my living off of being silent. It is hard to transition to the life King Garmadon has laid out for me. Being loud like you goes against everything I've trained myself to be over the past ten or so years."
Lloyd frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. "You're saying that I am loud?" He asked.
Jay hesitated and shot Nya a fleeting glance, pleading for help. Her head gave him a barely perceptible shake, and he knew he was on his own. "Let's just say..." He began slowly. "Let just say that if we were hiking in the woods, we would not be running into any bears."
Nya chortled softly as she watched Lloyd's reaction. He was clearly confused, trying to decide if Jay's answer had been a yes or a no.
"Come on," the Southern noblewoman nodded toward the mech. "Let's pack up the supplies and hit the skies. We have plenty of time to argue over who is the most potent bear repellent after we are in the air."
Zane watched in alarm as his sister let go of his shoulders and mouthed the words 'I forgive you.'
He shook his head rapidly, unable to comprehend what he had just done to her. "Pixal, please don't..." He said in a feeble voice. "Don't do this to me..." He knew his words were falling on deaf ears. Her hearing component was malfunctioning, and her voice was gone. The hurt in her eyes told him that she could still feel the pain of the knife, which was lodged in her chest like a demonic leech.
She turned her back to him and staggered over to the railing.
"Pixal!" Zane knew shouting was futile. She could not hear him. He got to his feet and reached for her, but something held him back.
"Just let her go, Zane." It was Cole's voice.
Zane wrested himself from Cole's grasp and turned to face his captor with wide eyes. "Let her go?" He nearly whimpered. His head shook from side to side as he glared at the Dark Knight. "She is my sister, Cole. I cannot let her go." He turned back to Pixal and gasped sharply, inhaling a hundred water droplets as his mouth opened in a desperate final cry to his dearest companion. "Don't jump, sister!" He reached for Pixal's leg just as she started to climb over the rail.
Another hand reached out and grabbed his shoulder, stopping him before he could grab her. "No, Zane." Cole said firmly. "She is dead to us now. Get back inside."
Zane watched in horrified silence as her body disappeared over the edge of the ship. She had jumped, just as he had requested mere moments before, while they were still in the cell. But that plan had changed when Cole had thrown his blade into her body.
Pixal could be such an idiot sometimes. Surely she had known she would not survive the fall with that sword embedded in her chest. Now she was gone.
Gone...
...GONE...
Zane let out an angry cry as the tears sprang from his eyes. He whirled around and faced Cole, who was red in the face from his rage. "How could you?" He shouted. "You killed my sister, you dog!" He threw an angry punch at Cole's face.
The Dark Knight caught the fist easily and held it in his hand as he spat out his reply. "You let her loose, prisoner. Surely you knew this would happen if you defied my orders."
"Orders?" Zane's strength doubled in his rage, and he pulled his fist out of Cole's grasp. "My sister is dead!"
Kai leapt between the two men and grabbed Zane's shoulders. "Hey!" He shouted above the winds. "Stop it, Zane! Fighting will not help you here!"
Zane stared at Kai's brown eyes in shock for a long moment. No matter how hard he tried, his mind was unable to process what had happened. Pixal had just died. Kai had just broken up a fight. Cole was not shouting obscenities at them. None of these things computed in his systems. His emotions were on overload. How was he supposed to react?
It made him want to kill the one who killed his sister. It made him want to beat at the walls with his fists until his hands were beyond repair. It made him want to fall on a sword and end his misery.
It made him want to sink into Kai's arms and sob until the end of time.
Kai seemed to understand what was going on in Zane's mind because his eyes softened, and the hands on the Nindroid's shoulders slid behind his back and pulled him into an embrace. "I'm so sorry, Zane." Kai whispered into his ear. "I am so, so sorry."
Zane walked into Kai's warm arms. He wanted to cry, at least for a few minutes. He wanted to rid his mind of these emotions raging through his head like the bucking storm that engulfed the ship. But more than any of those things, he wanted his sister back.
The ship rocked violently for a moment, and Zane was thrown from Kai's grasp. He flew through the air for a few seconds before he landed on the railing and hit his head hard. For a long moment, his vision went black. Why was this happening to him? Lady luck was laughing in his face.
When his vision finally came back moments later, he found that he was falling. His body was hanging in midair, and he realized he would be joining his sister in just a few short seconds. But to his surprise, he felt no panic. The rage left him, along with his spirit. He felt like an empty shell as he went through his options. At this late point in the game, there weren't many of them to consider.
One of his options was to simply give up and twist his body in a specific way so he would break his neck upon impact and sink to the bottom. It would be the fastest and easiest option. To give up and die sounded too tempting for words. Without his sister, what did he have left?
But he knew that failure was not an option. Giving up was for the weak. He still had hope and a reason to live. If he made it to shore, he could still protect his ward. The Red Knight could not die. Although most commoners did not know it, Kai was the hope of the island.
Cole was the hope of the island.
...He was the hope of the island. Protecting the prince was his one and only duty. He could not give up.
No, death was not an option. While he still had life, he had hope. Protecting his fellow knights was his duty and his reason for life.
It was this last thought that hardened his resolve. He twisted his body, drew in a deep breath, and threw his arms forward, diving into the water head first with a splash that hardly made itself known over the sounds of the raging storm.
He waited a few seconds before opening his eyes and glancing around. Ugh...seawater was almost unbearably rough on the eyes. But the water was fairly warm, suggesting that they were in the tropics. But to him, any water over forty degrees was considered warm. He was used to swimming in the Northern lakes, which usually had ice over them for eight or nine months of the year. This water had to have been at least seventy degrees. And that was unusually warm, even for shallow tropical coasts.
He dove down about fifteen yards and noted that the water was considerably calmer there, because the wave action was less harsh.
It seemed almost surreal, as if he were in another world. He was able to see the sandy ocean bottom about forty yards below him and decided that land had to be close by.
The hard part was deciding which way would lead him toward land. He could not see out that far from his current position. He treaded water and strained his eyes, trying to figure out which direction the Dark Island lay. His eyes drifted upward, and he had a heavy feeling of remorse as he thought of Kai and Cole. They would reach the island many hours before he did, that much was certain. Curse this storm for causing so much damage.
He did not dare even consider Pixal. He knew that she was probably on the ocean floor far behind him. Dare he go and search for her body?
He shook his head firmly. What good would a body do him? Let her rest in peace, he decided with an unbearable feeling of grief. Although he found it hard to comprehend, he decided it would be best to just accept he fact that he would not ever see her again. Right now, he just needed to focus on surviving.
He noted the growing ache in his lungs and knew that he would have to go up for air in just a minute. He judged his direction as best he could, following the current that would surely take him toward shore; or at least in its general direction. Thank goodness for small favors.
He swam to the surface and fought the waves for a short moment as he caught his breath and swam under again, this time only going down about ten to fifteen feet. He began to swim with the barely noticeable current, coming up for air every few minutes before diving down again. He noted after about two hours of this that the storm was beginning to die down, and that the rain had slowed to a steady drizzle instead of an angry downpour.
After another thirty minutes, he went up for air for perhaps the hundredth time and looked around, trying to get his bearings. He was becoming breathless. Even with the strict discipline and abuse he had put his body through over the years, it had never been enough to give him unending stamina. Although he came as close as was physically possible, he knew perpetual stamina was an impossibility. Even machines needed to rest every once and a while.
He noted that the rain had ended, and the winds had reduced itself to a strong breeze. The sky was black as a thick sheet, telling him that the clouds had not broken. By his best estimation, it was probably close to midnight. Since there was not a star to see in this world of black, let alone an island, he trusted the faint water currents and his knowledge of typical wind patterns to determine his next course. He took a deep breath and swam under again, repeating the cycle several more times before the next hour had run its course.
At about two in the morning he was certain that his strength would give out soon. He floated on the surface for about fifteen minutes, feeling the slight rolling of each wave under him as the water rose five or six inches every few seconds. He decided that this wave action could mean one of two things: that the winds were still blowing strong enough to make large waves, or the more hopeful of the two options, which would be that he was getting close enough to land for the waves to start cresting.
It was the thought of cresting waves that brought his hopes up and gave him new strength. He took a deep breath and dived into the water again, stroking methodically for perhaps two minutes before coming to the surface again. He was becoming too exhausted to stay under for any longer than that. He noted after another fifteen minutes that the waves were cresting faster and higher as he swam in the direction he would only assume was west. But it could have been east for all he knew. Perhaps he had swum all the way back to Ninjago and...
He chastised himself for thinking such illogical thoughts. Granted, his body felt like he had swum the entire ocean. His mind told him that such a thing was impossible, and that his tired head needed to stop thinking so he could get to shore faster. After another ten minutes, he felt sand under his soggy, booted feet. Normally, he would have followed the advice of most survival experts and gotten rid of the boots the moment he hit the water underneath the Black Bounty. But he had known he would need his boots later, so he had refrained from kicking his feet free of them.
Zane stood there for a long moment and relished in the feeling of ground under his feet as the waves lapped at his neck. After so many hours of nothingness under his boots, this honestly felt like heaven to him.
The waves pushed him forward and he dived under again, swimming with renewed energy. He knew it would not be much longer. The next time he rose to the surface, the water was at his chest. He had apparently hit a long underwater plateau, and the incline toward shore had been more gradual than he had originally guessed. But being unable to see the shore in the deep darkness, he told himself firmly to trust his instincts, which were telling him to let the waves push him toward the shore. Screw eyesight. He could feel the sand, the wind, and the waves, so he was content. In the morning, when he was fully rested, he could look at his surroundings to his heart's content.
The water became too shallow to swim in, and he stumbled his way toward the beach with his feet dragging through the sandy substrate, waves curling around his knees. He stumbled once and fell onto his hands, getting a mouth full of sandy seawater as he gasped for breath with his head hanging limply between his shoulders.
Ignoring the gritty sand between his teeth, he got to his feet again and staggered up and onto the beach, throat parched and dry as sandpaper. Once his feet reached the dry sand, he sank to his knees and sat in silence, breathing heavily for several beats before resting his head in his hands and allowing all of his penned-up emotions loose.
"Pixal..." He whispered to himself as his body trembled. How on earth did he come this far? In the space of a week, he had gone from being a man in a powerful position with a living father and sister to a man with nothing.
His body began to convulse with sobs as his body fell into the sand. He was too weak to do anything other than whisper his sister's name into the darkness. He blamed her death fully on himself. Labeling Cole as her murderer was just his weak cover up. It was like using a thin veil to block out the sun. He was the one who exposed her in the first place. He should have given her more time to escape before calling Cole and Kai out. Another ten seconds, and that knife would have never found the time to enter her chest. She would have been safely on the island, and he would still be on the ship to take whatever punishment Cole wanted to inflict upon him for giving her freedom.
Zane would have taken on a hundred lashes, if only to have the hope that she might still be alive. But that hope was gone, and he was surviving solely on the hope that perhaps he could save Kai and see his father again. Perhaps he could use his falcon and contact his father in the morning.
...Although the dread of telling Lord Julien what had happened to his daughter killed any pleasure Zane might have had in communicating with his father.
His eyes shut slowly as he decided to let tomorrow's dilemmas take care of themselves, at least for a few hours. He needed rest, and time to mourn his loss.
It was on that note that he found sleep, trembling with cold and silent sobs of grief and exhaustion.