Hello all! I'm sorry for the wait. Kira and I have both had our share of busyness this month.
Dadgummit, though, it's the 24th... I'd promised to be back like three weeks ago. I'm sorry about that. Thank you for your patience. :)
So, to let ya'll know what's going on: I have everything up through chapter 117 written. I still have a bit more things for Zane to finish up, and of course the epilogue. But I'm just about ready to label this story "Complete" and start dedicating more time to The Ties that Bind and helping Kira Vulpes work out bugs with her story, Preeminent Rising.
KaitheHotHead1: Noted. :) Thanks for the review!
Breeze Winder: Also noted! Haha! I love Kyle too. Thanks for the review!
Quick note! The first Besai POV is a little confusing, and I just want to apologize up front for that. Since it's a dream, I would have put it in italics, but I never really did that before (except in the very beginning like 2 years ago) so I didn't want to start now and be inconsistent. So the scene's just kind of there weirdly because I had no idea how to deal with it. I'm really sorry. But I didn't want to delete it... Tell me what you think.
A Bad Dream
For hours after the others finally managed to fall asleep, the cave was quiet. Cole sat by himself at the fire, keeping it at a reasonable size while rolling hot coals around in his palms until they stopped glowing. Then he'd toss them back in, spend a few minutes listening to the wind, and pick up another one.
His skin eventually grew hot, and he dropped the stone with a painful hiss. So his suspicion had been correct: while his skin had become impervious to all but a Blade's cut, everything beneath his skin remained as it was before his Transformation. And, when his Transformed skin took on too much heat, his insides grew uncomfortably hot.
He kept one eye on Sage as she slept close by. He felt troubled having her here- he wished he was able to send her to Ninjago, where it would at least be more difficult for Overlord to harm her.
But he wasn't able to do any such thing. I'll do my best, though, he thought, moving to touch her forehead. He paused, wondering if his hands were still hot from touching the coals. He poured a bit of water from a cup on his skin. It did not evaporate. All the same, Cole kept his hands to himself. Sage probably wouldn't appreciate being touched, anyway. Not while she was trying to get some well-earned sleep.
He glanced at the cave's exit, covered by a thin blanket that blocked the wind and rain from bothering them too much. As he had predicted, Ronin's speech about knowing Overlord's weakness had driven Nephilim to escape and warn her father. He hoped letting her go had been the right thing. Merv was confident that it was, but Cole was instinctively doubtful of any plan against the Overlord. Especially since Ronin had so obviously been acting.
They didn't really know Overlord's weakness, naturally. They had a theory about him maybe being a Gem or a Blade, but they didn't have much grounds for even that.
If the theory is wrong, we can at least know that we tried it, Cole thought. It will be our first real offense against the Overlord, too. That will be sure to rattle him. He could not quite convince himself of this last part.
Beside him, in the crook of Sage's arm, Chedva began to squirm and whine.
"What's this?" Cole murmured, snatching up the child before Sage could awaken. "Your mother just fed you a little while ago. You can't be hungry yet. Let your poor mother sleep."
Chedva bunched her face in a tight grimace and writhed in Cole's hands.
"Hey. Shh, shh…" Cole stood and bounced her up and down. When that didn't work, he hummed a lullaby. After a few lines she began to calm, staring at her father.
"Yeah, that's it." Cole kissed her forehead. "There's no reason to cry."
Chedva's lower lip trembled. She whimpered.
Cole sighed and set her over his shoulder, patting her back.
"The more I watch you," a voice began to Cole's left, making him start and turn, "the more I see your father in you."
Cole relaxed. It was Wu. The old man had been drifting in and out of sleep all night- it couldn't be comfortable for his old bones, sleeping on this uneven ground.
"You keep mentioning my father," Cole said, still patting Chedva's back. "You knew him?"
Wu paused. "I thought you already knew," he said, looking away.
"I'm related to the First King somehow, aren't I?" Cole blurted. He had not allowed himself to dwell on the idea, but now that he and Wu were alone…it just came out.
"I hadn't been certain of who you were when I first saw you here on the Dark Island two years ago," Wu said. He rose stiffly to a sitting position and coughed into his fist. When the fit was over he continued, eyes moist. Though because of the harsh cough or emotion, Cole was not certain. "I'll admit, I was not certain until tonight when I heard you play the violin. That song, 'Till Sunlight's End."
"What about it?" Cole asked, bristling.
"It was Aika's favorite song, wasn't it?" Wu dried his eyes. "When skies from blue to gray do turn… When birds dance not in starlight dark…"
"…Still I do wait for you, my love… 'Till sunlight's end I wait, my love…" Cole finished. He nodded. "Um…so how am I related to the First King? And why didn't my father say anything about it?"
"You speak of him as though he's gone," Wu said. "Has something happened to him?"
Cole stilled. Chedva began to cry shortly thereafter, and he sat down and bounced her on his knee. "I…thought you knew," he said. "You've been living here for so long. Overlord…" Cole faltered. How did one even begin to talk about something like this?
Wu pursed his lips, then exhaled. "I need some tea," he said, rising to prepare a pot.
Cups clanked and water trickled as Wu worked. Cole did not watch him, though: he suspected that Wu and his father had been close. Wu needed a moment of privacy.
"Moons," Wu swore as he returned a few minutes later, two warm cups in his hands. Cole accepted one with a nod of thanks. "There are days that I sit out here, just me alone with the wind, the sea, and my Father-" he pointed upwards as he said this "-but then there are days like today where I just… Moons. I could have done you better. I'm sorry, son."
"You don't have to be sorry," Cole said. "It wasn't your fault. It's mine."
Wu sipped at his tea, green eyes dark and grim as he gazed at Chedva. He shook his head. "I remember when you were a babe," he said. "Oh, you were so tiny. When Aika swaddled you up and set you in your cradle it looked like the jaws of some great monster swallowing you whole."
"A wonderful picture," Cole said, deadpan.
"I suppose not." Wu smiled softly. "You look just like your father. His hair, his jaw, and his eyes, of course. And you got your grandmother's…unfortunate height."
"There's nothing wrong with being short," Cole said defensively.
Wu chuckled. "No indeed." He stayed quiet after that, staring at the wall as he drank his cup. Eventually he refilled it with the pot by the fire.
Finally, Cole set down his untouched cup and sighed. "One of my jobs as the Dark Knight was interrogation," he said. "I'm good at reading people."
"I suppose I'm an open book to you, then."
"You're my grandfather," Cole said. "Lou was your son. I…I must have been born in Garmadon's mansion." The words sounded strange on his tongue. Him? A Prince? A baby born into high society? Laughable.
But Wu did not think it a laughing matter. He nodded, eyes on the floor. "Yes," he said, more tears in his eyes, which he hastily wiped away. "Yes, you're right. Shrewd, like your father, too."
"Why?" Cole asked.
"Why what?"
"All of this!" Cole exclaimed. Chedva yowled as though to underscore her father's words. "Why did Father never tell me he was a Prince? Why were we always so poor? Why are you out here instead of at home with your family?" He slapped a hand on his leg. "I'll bet two months ago was the first time you'd ever seen Lloyd, huh? Don't you care that you missed out on-"
"Yes," Wu cut him off, looking up from the ground. "Yes, I have regrets. I was the firstborn son, heir to the throne, with a wonderful wife, and a son expecting his second child. I…" He faltered, breathing shakily. "Hosts, Coleman. You're reopening wounds I thought had healed many years ago."
Cole remained silent as Wu composed himself: the old Prince deserved time to grieve his son.
"My father was sick with an incurable disease," Wu explained at last. "And he…he told me about a small but dangerous secret religion called the Way. I became curious, and after a few months I managed to hound out the place that they usually held their secret meetings. Much to my surprise I learned that the Way is not small at all. It is an immense and very alive underground group. But instead of turning them in, as my father would have wanted if he'd learned what I knew, I joined them."
"What does this have to do with anything?" Cole asked crisply.
"My younger brother, Garmadon," Wu said. "He discovered what I did, and told our father. Normally, the penalty for associating with the Way is a secret execution. But I was family, and they sentenced me what they deemed a more merciful punishment."
"Exile," Cole guessed quietly.
Wu dipped his head. "They put me on a ship to Keitorin, which, at the time, had been an uninhabited island. Then they fabricated a story about a monsoon tragically sinking the ship. Garmadon took the throne in my stead."
"That still doesn't explain my father," Cole pressed. "What happened with him?"
Wu wiped his eyes yet again and sighed an old, tired sigh. "Garmadon had been trying for years to make Father believe I was unfit to be King, and he attacked like a wild cat when he learned of my ties to the Way. Lou was infuriated with his uncle's behavior and said, very stubbornly, that if they sent me into exile then he would take his family and leave."
"And they let him go," Cole said.
"No," Wu refuted. "Your great-grandfather said that Lou was not allowed to leave: he knew too much of the Way, and had to be kept under lock and key for the rest of his life- unless, of course, he wanted to join me in exile. Your father, being but one in a long line of thick-headed, obstinate green-eyes- decided to leave anyway. He took you and Aika and left the mansion in the dead of night. I never saw him again."
Cole rubbed his head. "You'd think I would remember something so important from my past," he grumbled.
"You were still young," Wu said. "Hardly two winters old. If you do have any memories of those years, they are fragmented beyond recognition."
"I guess…"
Chedva, who had been mostly quiet up until now, began to writhe and scream again. Cole cradled her at his chest, frowning. "What? Are you in pain? Hungry? Bored? Hosts, love. Don't make me wake up your mother."
Wu's soft eyes shifted between Cole and Chedva. "Why don't you wake Sage up?" he asked.
"She needs sleep," Cole explained. "I can't imagine what it must be like taking care of this needy little princess day in and day out." He let out an impatient puff of air and tossed Chedva gently into the air. He caught her and did it again. "It's a demanding job. And it never ends. She needs to be on call all hours of the day. But instead of complaining, she's constantly apologizing because she thinks she's slowing us down." He noticed Chedva's frightened expression and stopped. "Sorry, love… Didn't mean to scare you." He turned his attention to Wu. "I'm just trying to help her out. Because she's working harder than the rest of us combined right now, and…"
A low, prolonged rumble escaped from Chedva's diaper. The baby's face relaxed, and she cooed as a sharp, unpleasant smell filled the air.
"A- Ah…" Cole tightened his lips, holding her at arm's length. "So that's what was wrong with you." He glanced at Sage. "Maybe…um, Sage is rested enough for now."
Wu coughed into a rag and waved at the air. He stood and moved his mat to the other side of the cave. "Yes," he said. "Please, do wake her up."
Zane set his elbows on the desk and rubbed his temples, breathing deeply. How could he focus on the problems here in the South while his father was on the other side of the country, dying or dead of the plague? He'd sent his falcon out last night to check on his father, but it would be a little longer yet before any intel would arrive.
And so he sat, knowing so much needed to be done, but not having the heart to do it. Not until he could see his father's face through the eyes of his bird and ease his mind.
How does Josi do it? he wondered, closing his eyes. Her brother- her other half, essentially- is missing, possibly dead. And yet she carries on with a smile. If only I could have her peace of mind…
Josi was a newer model. That had to be all it was. Cyrus had made her more adept at handling stress than Zane.
A knock came at Zane's door, and he looked up. "Yes?" He hoped the person on the other side of the door had missed the little hitch in his voice. He swallowed. "Come in."
The door opened slowly, and Varasach peeked her head through. She smiled. "Hi."
Zane recalled the first time he'd seen this girl on the Dark Island. Hardly able to speak his language, struggling to maintain eye contact, unsure of herself. The girl who now stood before Zane was like an entirely new person.
"Hello," Zane said, glancing at the girl's legs as she entered the room with shuffling steps. "No wheelchair today?"
"No." Josi followed Varasach into the room and shut the door. "I'm letting her walk for a few minutes today. She wanted to show you her progress."
Zane watched as Varasach walked- Josi right beside her in case she stumbled- to the desk. Varasach set a hand on a chair and beamed at Zane.
Zane nodded approvingly, unable to keep a small smile from lifting his cheeks. Despite the fact that she was nearing her nineteenth winter, she still had a disposition like a child. Zane wondered if it had to do with trauma from her time on the Dark Island.
"Good job," he said, gesturing to the chair. "Why don't you two sit for a while? I could use some company."
Josi sat in one plush seat. Varasach lowered herself stiffly into another.
An uncomfortable silence followed. Zane went back to rubbing his temples. He momentarily felt for his bird, though he knew it could not have reached his father yet.
"I think we need to talk," Josi said softly.
"About what?"
"About…how you're dealing with all of this. You're clearly not doing very well. We just want you to know that we're here to help."
Zane looked up, two fingers from each hand still pressed to his forehead. "Thank you," he said. "But there's nothing you can do. Not about this, at any rate. Just help me keep the South safe."
"Safe from what?" Varasach asked. "Garmadon?"
"Yes."
Varasach's face pinched. "I don't understand," she said. "You believe that the King is a god. But you are disobeying him."
"Because he's doing something wrong, Vara."
"But if he were really God, he would do nothing wrong, right?"
Zane frowned. On top of everything else that was happening, she was going to drag her religion back into the mess?
"Garmadon is not actually God," Zane explained impatiently. "He is the descendant of God. And as such, he, like every other child of the earth, is prone to error."
"But my God became man," Varasach argued. "And he remained perfect."
Hosts, she is an obstinate girl! Doesn't she know when to quit? Zane stood, glaring icily at Josi. "It's almost time for my meeting with the General," he said. "Why don't you go to the library for a while?"
Josi sharply rose to her feet, returning Zane's stare. She touched Varasach's shoulder, and the girl stood, looking confused and hurt. Together they left the room. Josi slammed the door shut.
Zane sank back into his chair and set his head back in his hands.
By the thirteen moons, why, why, why was he so foolish? Here he was, at the end of the world. His family gone, his friends few and far between, and he had to go and push even them away because he hated talking about their world views. As if religion was even remotely important to consider at a time like this!
Zane was supposed to be the calm one. The one who analyzed his problems and swiftly came up with the best solution for everybody. But now he felt completely and utterly at a loss.
Maybe it was time for a tuneup. Granted, his father had done a full systems check on him the moment he returned from the Dark Island, but maybe something had broken again.
But I can't reach Father, he thought morosely, staring at the patterns in the wood of his desk. So even if I was malfunctioning, who would I dare ask to help me fix it? Not Josi. Especially not after his hurtful words. He wouldn't be surprised if she and Varasach were packing up at this very minute, preparing to go back North. No, Cyrus. We tried. Zane's a lost cause. We'll just leave him alone and let him run the South into a ditch because he doesn't want our help.
A knock sounded at the door, and Zane's head popped up. "Come in," he said hopefully: maybe it was Josi. Maybe she'd come to try and talk some sense into him. Not like he'd be listening because he'd be too busy apologizing for his lack of tact and-
"Milord." A servant entered the room, and Zane's spirits fell again. "You…have a visitor.''
"What?" Zane ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it. "Who?"
The servant hesitated, confusion written across his face. As if he didn't quite comprehend or believe the words he was about to say.
"The Queen," he said finally. "The Queen is here, and she wants to speak with you."
Zane stood. "Where is she? Send her in!"
"One moment, Milord." The servant backed out of the room. A few seconds later Misako entered, looking worse than Zane had ever seen her.
"Your Majesty," Zane said, then caught himself. He was no longer under her authority. "Um…Misako. Is something wrong?"
It was a foolish question to ask. Misako's soft, sky-blue eyes stared vacantly past him. Her face- devoid of any makeup- looked much too old and weary for her age. A wrinkled hand clutched a gray blanket that draped around her shoulders like an ill-fitting cloak. Her hair hung down her back in a loose, frizzy braid that looked like it had been done before crawling haphazardly into bed.
Actually, she did look like she'd come straight from her bed. She was even wearing a nightgown under the blanket.
"Misako," Zane tried again. "What happened? Did Garmadon-"
"No," Misako said quietly. "He doesn't know I'm here." She paused. "I…didn't know I was here until it happened."
"Until what happened? How did you get past the border patrol?" Realizing he was going about this wrong, Zane skirted the desk and set a hand on her arm, guiding her to a chair. "Sit down. I'll have someone bring some tea. Are you hungry?"
Misako nodded absently, looking around the room like a lost child. "It was Cyrus," she said, as if speaking to herself. "I…have a group of his people working as servants around the castle grounds. They thought that things were getting out of hand, and they…kidnapped me."
She's been sedated, Duskweaver said. She needs rest so she can gather her wits.
"All right. Say no more, Misako." Zane made sure she was comfortable, then went for the door. "I'll be right back with some food and proper clothing. Perhaps something of Driniah's will fit you."
Misako nodded her consent, and Zane exited the room. He closed the door and leaned against it, eyes on the opposite wall and its tapestry, trying to organize his thoughts.
What did Cyrus think he was doing, sending Misako to him? Garmadon would quickly reach the conclusion that Zane had kidnapped her just to aggravate the other two realms. And then war, while possibly avoidable before, would now be inescapable.
Zane rubbed his forehead, wondering if perhaps this was all a bad dream. He hoped so.
The end of the world indeed.
One Year Prior
Ronin awakened in the sand by the river. His head- or more specifically, his right eye- throbbed in time with his heartbeat.
No. Throbbing was too gentle of a word. It pounded with so much force Ronin wondered of there were someone on top of him, stabbing his face repeatedly with a knife.
Groaning, Ronin struggled to a sitting position, attempting to open his eyes. He could not. In a blind panic he clawed at his face, scraping away thick masses of dried, crusty blood.
Finally his left eye was free and opened a crack, letting in the soft light of dusk. Relief washed over him. So he wasn't completely blind. He touched the throbbing hole where his right eye used to be. It came away wet with fresh blood. Stupid. He'd reopened the scabs.
Tina…
Ronin grit his teeth, both against these rising emotions and his growing pain. Overlord knew, he thought, hands digging into the sand to steady himself as his head swam. He knew I would try to escape. That's why he broke Tina's legs. So I couldn't take her with me.
Perhaps it was better that way, though, Ronin decided, struggling to examine his surroundings with shattered vision. His ears wouldn't stop ringing.
The stone warriors that had pursued him from the compound seemed to be gone. Why had they left him? Perhaps they'd assumed him dead- or at least close to it- and had gone to torment some other unfortunate soul.
Ronin swallowed; his tongue felt thick and clumsy in his mouth. Carefully, he picked away more dried blood from his good eye until it was cleared enough to open properly. He blinked, the blackish-red flakes irritating his eye.
Water. He had to get some water.
He heard the river just a little ways off, and he shakily crawled in its general direction. Dark spots filled his vision, and he concentrated on his hands in the sand, taking deep breaths.
Eventually his head cleared, and he followed his ringing ears to the river, where he drank deeply. When he'd had his fill, he cautiously washed his face. Tainted water ran down the stream as he cleaned his good eye, his forehead, his cheeks, and finally his gouged eye. He did this carefully, praying to the Hosts that the water was clean so the wound wouldn't get contaminated.
Well…any more contaminated than it already was. Who knew where that stone warrior's sword had been?
Dizziness overtook Ronin once again, and he gasped through parted lips, hands planted in the water. It was all he could to do keep from falling unconscious and accidentally drowning himself. Brilliant, Ronin. You survived losing an eye. But go ahead and faint and drown in the water. Tina would be proud.
…Tina.
Ronin's head hung limp between his shoulders. Fresh blood trickled into his mouth. He let it sit under his tongue, warm and metallic.
I'll come back for you, he'd promised her. I don't care if it takes me a hundred years. I'll find a way to come back for you. Just hang on until then.
Tears fell from Ronin's working eye, and his chest shuddered with weak sobs. How weak he was. How small and cowardly he was. How could he hope to rescue Tina when he couldn't even save himself? And when he tried to go back and save her, Overlord would surely have some sort of trap waiting for him. There was no way he could win.
"So," an old, wizened man's voice spoke behind Ronin, and a hand rested on his shoulder. "Are you going to try again?"
Ronin sniffled, then swallowed. "What's the point?" he whispered. He felt that he should care about who this stranger was, but he couldn't bring himself to.
"The point?" the man repeated. "So you don't have a point?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, why were you out here in the first place? You must have a good reason. No one comes to this cursed island just for kicks." The hand left his shoulder.
Ronin managed to twist his head to the side, and he watched as the man- who was indeed old and wizened, with soft green eyes and a long white beard- sat in the sand beside him.
"I think," the old man said, "that maybe this has something to do with your point?"
Ronin's breath caught in his throat as the old man held out a strip of dirty blue cloth. He must have dropped it during his fight with the stone warriors.
Ronin snatched the balled-up cloth away from the old man and held it close. It was soiled with dirt and blood to the point of appearing brown. Ronin just stared at it in his wet hand silently, a hollow ache spreading through his chest. At last the pain grew too great and he closed the cloth in his fist.
Only then did he remember what was tucked between the folds of the cloth, and he unwrapped it carefully, revealing a large diamond with a thousand glittering facets. He let out a relieved breath and turned the gem in the cloth, watching it sparkle. It's still here. Good. It wouldn't do for Ronin to have lost his final gift from his Tina.
"I'm curious," the man said. "How did you manage to get one of those?"
"I don't know," Ronin admitted, sitting back on his knees. "Tina shoved it into my hand right before we…got separated."
"Hmm." The old man stroked his beard. "I sense an interesting story here. Why don't you accompany me back to my home, and we can exchange news over a pot of oyster stew? I haven't had a house guest in years."
Ronin didn't feel that he could stomach any food in his state. But he knew he had to eat something eventually if he was to come back for Tina.
"How do I know I can trust you?" Ronin asked.
The old man smiled softly and held his hand above the cloth where the diamond rested. A white light emanated from the stone, and Ronin dropped it, startled.
"Hold still, son," he said, and touched his fingertips gently to Ronin's bleeding eye socket. Ronin cried out in protest- even the lightest pressure was excruciating- but then he paused, confused. The pain was beginning to fade.
"No Gem can regrow lost tissues," the old man said, "so I fear your eye is lost. But this will help…bind together what skin is left, and it will draw out any infection." He lowered his hand. "How does it feel now?"
Ronin touched his face tentatively. He still felt queasy, and his head was spinning from the blood loss- and of course the loss of half his vision- but the pulsing pain in his empty socket was mostly gone. "It…doesn't hurt anymore."
"Good." The old man stood. "Come on. We'll have to hurry if we want to reach my home by sunset. Oh, yes. And my name is Wu, son."
"…Ronin." Ronin stood dizzily and followed the old man named Wu.
The wind screamed past Nephilim's ears as she ran beside the flooding river. Water soaked her clothes, weighing her down. Fatigue from hunger and thirst nearly sent her stumbling to her knees. She needed to stop and rest.
She needed to keep going.
Please, Nephilim, Truethorn said. You've been running for nearly an hour. I cannot keep you on your feet forever.
In response, Nephilim snatched up another burst of her Blade's power and increased her speed. Every muscle quivered from the strain: Truethorn may have given her incredible strength, but her body had not changed. She hurt badly inside every time she used her powers. Father had assured her that with time she would become stronger and more able to tolerate Truethorn's gift. She just needed to keep pushing forward. Just keep-
A gust of wind surged from the north and pushed her sideways. She smacked into a tree and fell on her back. She did not hesitate even a moment before rolling onto her belly, getting her legs and arms under herself. Her body groaned as she stood, ever drawing in her Blade's power, and stumbled forward.
The enemy will not execute their plan until tomorrow night, Truethorn said. You can rest for five minutes.
No, Nephilim said forcefully. I can make it.
You are not even halfway there, Truethorn argued.
I will make it, Truethorn.
Her legs crumbled beneath her, and she gasped, barely getting her arms under her before her nose hit the sand. Her lungs stung as she panted voluminous, heaving breaths and tried to get herself up. But her body seemed a thousand times heavier than it should be, and whatever pain she had felt before in her muscles had multiplied a hundredfold.
Truethorn! she called in her mind. Vaguely she felt her Blade's presence in her mind, but it offered her no assistance. It had cut its power, leaving Nephilim defenseless.
Truethorn, why did you do that?
The Blade thrummed. I showed you just how weak you are, it said. I may be able to keep you on your feet for now. But you are taxing your body too far beyond its limits. Your Implants have long since run out of power, and you are unable to heal even that cut in your wrist. Please, just rest. We can start again in an hour. Find something to eat, then I will return your power to you.
Nephilim grit her teeth, fighting tears of desperation and pain. I need to get to Father! she said. The Dark Knight knows his weakness, and is going to use it against him. I must warn him before it's too late.
The Blade emitted a sound not unlike a sigh. Even if the Dark Knight and his companions were to begin their journey to the Overlord tonight, you are well ahead of them. Don't stress yourself so much.
Nephilim closed her eyes, shivering in the rain, gooseflesh prickling her bruised arms and legs. If only there was some moonlight. Then she could fuel her Implanted Gems and heal herself.
But there was no way to get moonlight with these dark storm clouds in the sky. She was on her own. Alone.
Alone. With a vicious howl of rage Nephilim planted her palms under herself and pushed herself onto her knees.
What are you doing? the Blade asked nervously.
Nephilim allowed herself a bitter smile, rain running past her lips. Her fingers groped for a nearby tree. She pulled herself to her feet, gripping the tree's rough bark for support as she struggled to catch her breath. Her head pounded. Her infected wrist throbbed. The burning spread from her lungs up into her throat.
No, Truethorn groaned. No, no, no, Nephilim. You won't make it without my help, so don't even try. Sit down. Rest.
"You rest!" Nephilim screamed, taking her first impossibly heavy step. It was like one of those dreams where her feet seemed to be held down with invisible weights. But she did it. One foot after another, she plowed forward.
She couldn't stop. She couldn't rest. Not until she was sure her father was safe. Not until she was in his arms again. His safe, warm, strong arms.
Not until she wasn't alone anymore.
You're a fool, Truethorn said. But despite the Blade's words, it relented and returned her power to her. It came in a faint green mist from the west, upstream, and seeped into her bones, granting her its strength. She stood a little straighter and took a deep breath. Though the pain remained, she was able to ignore it as the weights were lifted from her ankles, and she broke into a run.
They will all die, Nephilim thought grimly, tearing through bushes and over wet sand dunes. I will not rest until they are dead. Every single one of them.
Besai did her best to ignore numerous stares as she crossed the courtyard to the infirmary. She instead kept her eyes on the toddler perched on her hip, taking in every detail, savoring every moment, walking as slowly as she dared. Because once she reached her destination, it would be over.
She viciously shoved the thought away, fighting a lump of emotion lodged deep in her throat. Painfully it tugged at her, as if a bit of her spirit was being torn from her body. And, in a way, it was.
As she passed under a fruit tree, the child on her hip reached out and grunted. His ginger curls jiggled as he bounced on his mother's waist, grabbing her attention.
Besai followed Alyx's pointing fingers into the tree's branches. "Those are not ripe yet," she said, voice weak, stroking his hair. "You can eat something else soon, though. Okay?"
They passed the tree, and Alyx whined. His disappointment was soon forgotten, though, and he poked Besai's cheek, giggling. Besai smiled back sadly, returning his poke. The toddler laughed louder, jabbing her cheek again and again until Besai finally told him to stop. "Na, Alyx. That hurts. Gentle."
Alyx moved his hands to her hair and ruffled it up with wild, flailing motions, eyes alight with humor. Good, innocent humor. Nothing like the looks and smiles Besai's master always gave her, when he noticed her at all.
The infirmary loomed ahead. Outside its door, many girls stood in a line shoulder to shoulder. About two-thirds of them, like Besai, carried small children. But, unlike Besai, they looked impassive as they waited in their formation for Overlord to arrive. Besai joined them, standing at the end, unable to keep the tremble from her bones. She had been the last to arrive.
Alyx seemed to notice her uneasiness. His smile fell, and he looked at his surroundings with a closer eye.
"It's okay," Besai whispered, a hand on the back of Alyx's head as he nuzzled her breast, whining. "I know. You are hungry. I have nothing right now. Please, wait."
Telling her child no was a thing Besai wished she would never have to do. But it wasn't like she had a choice. Even if it hadn't been the day, she was pregnant again. Her milk was drying up. Poor Alyx was being forced to learn far, far too soon just how harsh the world really was.
"Everyone is here, then." Overlord's voice rang behind them, from the door to the infirmary. Most of the women jumped at his voice, but Besai remained still.
Overlord walked to their front, holding a stack of papers in his hands, chin held high. "Ghyrta," he said sternly. "Step forward."
A girl of about nine winters hastily approached her master. She dropped to her knees and set her visibly sweaty hands on her lap.
Overlord cast an aloof eye over the long line, then looked at his papers. Briskly riffled through the stack, made a few notes with his pencil. Looked to Besai and the woman next to her in the line. "Besai. Peyr."
Besai's heart fell. She had hoped that Overlord would start at the other end of the line, leaving her for last. Overlord must have noticed this and started with her out of spite.
Peyr, a fourteen-winters girl with hair bleached nearly white by the sun, leaped forward almost instantaneously, holding the hand of a little boy. Besai hesitated a moment, holding Alyx in both arms, her cheek pressed to the side of his head. His tiny arms wrapped around her neck. She felt his breath on her shoulder, and tears filled her eyes. Oh, how she would miss these little moments. In about half a year she would give birth to another little one, and she would care for it for eighteen or so months before it was weaned, and the cycle would start again.
One would think that saying goodbye would become easier with each child lost. But it only got harder. Her burden felt a little heavier each time she was called forward.
Besai and Peyr knelt on either side of the girl Ghyrta. Peyr nudged her boy away. The child blinked at its mother, lost, then gazed up at Overlord.
Ghyrta hastily pulled the boy to herself, probably fearful of what Overlord might do if he caught the child staring so disrespectfully.
Besai spared a glance at the Overlord, still intent on his papers, and decided she had a moment. She set Alyx on his feet. The boy immediately walked back into her arms.
"No, Alyx," Besai whispered, and pushed the boy away with trembling hands. She touched his cheek.
"No!" Alyx mimicked her with a slight frown, attempting to push her hands aside so he could get close.
Besai caved in and let Alyx into her arms one last time, tears wetting her cheeks. "I love you," she murmured so Overlord would not hear. Then she forced a smile and let him go, running a finger through his curls.
"Ghyrta," Overlord said, looking down at them at last. "You are dismissed."
"Yes, Master." Ghyrta stood, taking Peyr's child in one arm. He whined feebly, but relented after only a few moments. Then she scooped Alyx into her other arm. After glancing sympathetically in Besai's direction she scurried away.
The severity of the situation dawned on Alyx then. He cried out, reaching helplessly for Besai, panic written on his young face.
That was Besai's final image of her son. She closed her eyes against the tears and stood, turning her back to the screams.
The entire process took less than a minute. Overlord wrote a few notes on his papers, turned to a new leaf, and called three more names: the mothers, and the caretaker.
Unsure of what to do, too weak in the knees to try walking back to the keep, Besai wobbled over to a nearby tree and sank down at its roots, hiding her head between her knees. She felt sick to her stomach, and it wasn't just because of her pregnancy. She could still hear Alyx crying, though it gradually became quieter as his new caretaker walked further away. Probably to continue her duties deep in one of the groves.
And what were Besai's duties, now that Alyx was gone? Well, the same as before, only without the bright company of her child. She would stand by her sister and wait on her master's every need.
But right now, she only wanted time to mourn.
"Besai."
Besai looked up, startled, and saw that the sun had gone down. Or…was it rising?
Overlord stood over her, frowning stiffly. "You have wasted enough time delaying it," he said. "Get into the line."
Besai stood, noticing then that she held Ahlie on her hip. The little girl's giggles echoed in her numbed mind.
With a howl of rage Overlord snatched Ahlie from her. She and her child screamed, and with that scream came a sheet of blackness, suffocating her.
Ahlie was gone. Gone, just like-
"Besai."
Besai stood over Kai, holding the tattoo gun in her hands. Preparing to give him the mark; the curse that would haunt him for the rest of his life.
As she stared into his gentle, melancholy eyes, he lifted his hand to her cheek and offered her a smile.
"…Besai."
"Besai."
Besai awakened with a jolt. She wiped her wet eyes- had she been crying in her sleep?- and propped herself up on a shaking elbow. What a disturbing dream…
"It's about time, sleepyhead," Kai whispered. He knelt next to her, one hand on her arm. In the other he held a cloak.
"You okay?" Kai asked when she did not respond.
Besai nodded and sniffled. Her stomach hurt. She started to lay back down, but Kai stopped her.
"We're leaving," he said.
"What?" With some effort Besai rolled onto her knees. She looked about the cave: everyone but she and Kai still slept. The storm screamed outside. One corner of the blanket over the door flapped loosely, having been blown from under the rock that secured it. The only light came from the remains of the fire in the middle of the room.
"The others don't understand," Kai said, helping her to her feet. "But we have to leave."
"Why?" Besai pressed a hand to her temples to quell the dizziness. All she wanted to do was go back to sleep; to forget the afterimages of her nightmare, still lingering in her mind. To forget about her guilt for Alyx's death.
Kai slung a pack over one shoulder and offered her the cloak. "I don't care how safe Cole thinks his plan is," he said grimly, fastening the cloak around Besai's shoulders when she did not take it. "It's stupid to think that Overlord would ever completely empty his fortress of stone warriors and come out here to find us. He's smarter than that."
"Kai-"
"How are we even going to open that chest of Blades you described? Don't you think Overlord has hidden those keys in a different place now that he knows you've found them?"
This gave Besai pause. "I am…sure that we will find a way."
Kai scoffed. He grabbed Besai's arm- not violently, but not gently either- and pulled her toward the door. "Sure. We'll find a way. Assuming we don't die first."
Besai struggled against his grip. "So that's what this ees about?" she asked, rising her voice. Hopefully someone would wake up and talk some sense into Kai. "Kai!"
Kai slammed a palm over her mouth, scowling. "I am saving your life," he hissed. Then his eyes softened. "I don't want you to die. Please, just come with me."
Kai lowered his hand, and Besai spoke quietly. "What happened?" she asked. "What did you see when you died that has made you so afraid?"
Kai looked away. His jaw flexed. "I'd rather you never find out," he said. "Come on."
"No!" Besai cried, pulling against him. "No, Kai! They need us!"
Kai frowned at her. "They need to listen to me," he said. "It's too dangerous." His hand tightened around her arm. "Come on. Once you're safe, I'll come back for the others and-"
"Kai."
Kai froze. Besai turned, searching desperately for the owner of the voice.
Cole rose to his feet. Around them others were stirring, awakening because of Besai's noise.
"Kai, what are you doing?" Cole approached them carefully, as though Kai were an animal that would dart off at the slightest sign of danger. Perhaps he was.
Kai shuffled back a step, eyes darting between Cole and the door. Besai's arm began to discolor and tingle from the strength of his grip.
Cole shook his head, scoffing lightly. "So this was your plan," he said. "You only agreed to help us take down Overlord because it would lower our guard. Just like the other day, when you offered to take first watch so you could run off and get yourself killed."
"What's going on?" Jay yawned. He sat up, rubbing his eyes.
Cole ignored him. He crossed his arms. "This is insane, you know that?"
"I'm not crazy!" Kai screamed, pulling Besai toward him with such force that she stumbled to her knees. She fought her way to her feet again.
This isn't right! she thought. What's wrong with him? He-
"Let her go."
Besai paused as someone touched her shoulder. A light touch that stilled the shaking in her legs and returned her breath to her.
Ronin's one eye had no trouble capturing both of Kai's. "You're hurting her," he said, pulling Besai gently toward himself. "Let go."
Kai looked at his hand. Then at Besai. He faltered. "I…I can't go there again," he whispered shakily. "I can't let her go there. I have to hide her. Overlord can't-"
"Overlord will," Ronin interjected. "As long as you let your fear of him control you, he always will."
Kai's laugh sounded less than sane as it rang in Besai's ears. "Oh, is that all?" he asked. "I guess if I hadn't been afraid of him, then I never would have gotten this tattoo, huh?" He jerked Besai's arm into the air. She gasped at the unexpected pain; her arm began to go numb, tiny pinpricks like needles rippling over her skin.
"If she hadn't been afraid, maybe she wouldn't have had Overlord's kids!" Kai looked at Jay, who was in the process of attaching his prosthetic so he could stand. "Maybe he wouldn't have lost his leg. And what of you, hmm? What happened to your eye?" He stepped toward Ronin and brushed his hand from Besai's shoulder. "I'll bet that had something to do with Overlord, huh? And Tina. If you were so brave, why did you lose her?"
Ronin's brow creased. He swallowed, but kept his gaze steady. "It's sad," he said quietly, "that you trust your wife so little that you think it necessary to lead her away from danger by force."
"She doesn't see it," Kai hissed. "None of you see it. But I'm doing what's best for her. Her, and the baby."
"Kai…" Ronin shook his head. "You know, if you stand above her, and not beside her, then you're really no better than Overlord."
There was a long moment of silence. The wind howled, and the fire crackled hungrily as Pixal threw some more wood on. She watched with the impression of disinterest, though it was plain that she would leap into the fray and break them up if things got out of hand.
Then, slowly, Kai's fingers loosened. "Wu said I would lose you," he whispered, letting go of Besai's arm completely. "He said that…that I needed to reconcile with you before it was too late. I…" He reached out for Besai tentatively. Apologetically.
Besai shrank away from his hand.
Something snapped behind Kai's eyes. He shuffled back a step, looking desperately from person to person. Searching for something that he did not find. He cast a fleeting glance at the exit.
"Kai…" Besai whispered, hugging herself, shivering. The wind was cold.
Kai tore free the blanket over the door and fled the cave.
"Kai!" Besai screamed. She tried to follow him but the wind swept up the wet blanket and blew it into her. She stumbled and fell. When finally disentangled herself from the blanket's grip, Kai had disappeared into the storm. Wind tore through the cave, carrying cold rain in its searching fingers. Besai was soaked in seconds.
No! she thought, scrambling to her feet breathlessly, unable to speak a coherent word. She bolted forward, but was stopped by Cole.
"Get him!" she cried, struggling against Cole's arm around her middle. "Cole, let me go! Get him!"
"No," Cole said. He sounded hesitant, and he paused to look at Pixal and Ronin before speaking again. "No. He doesn't want to be here. We should just let him cool off."
"He weel hurt heemself!" Besai pulled herself from his grip- why was everyone restraining her this morning?- and whirled to face them, eyes filled with tears.
"He won't hurt himself," Cole assured her. "I think he's already proven how strong his self-preservation is. He'll run away from the danger this time and hide himself."
"Which works out," Pixal added. "Because he'll be out of the way." She paused. "I didn't want to say it in front of him, but we don't need him or his Blade's powers for this plan to work. I'd prefer if he just stayed out of this. He isn't thinking clearly enough to be anything but a liability. And…" The tight line of her lips relaxed a little. "…well, after what we read in Ara's journal, maybe it's best if he stays as far back as possible."
She can't really mean that! Besai looked outside. If she ran, maybe she could find him and bring him back before he got lost. The sky was so dark. So bleak.
It's my fault, she thought. If I hadn't pulled away when he touched me…
"Just let him go, Besai," Cole said, voice even, though his eyes betrayed his worry. "We need you. You're the only one who knows where the Blades are hidden. Kai would only get in the way."
"He…would not," Besai said feebly. She knew it was a stretch, and she looked at the ground. Did she really have that little faith in him? Her hesitance to trust him was warranted, she supposed. But that didn't make her feel any less terrible for thinking it.
"I'm sorry," Cole said, guiding her away from the door. "I want to make sure he's safe too. But as much as it pains me to say it, we can't afford to waste any time." He glanced outside. "Nephilim has to have reached Overlord by now."
"Suki says she did," Pixal confirmed. "And there is a lot more activity around the compound than usual. I think Overlord is preparing his stone warriors for battle."
Besai felt sick thinking about battle. They had the means to fight stone warriors, yes. But a thousand of them? Pixal, Sage, Wu, Ronin, and Merv had no Blades, and Besai's skills were rudimentary at best. That left Cole and Jay to protect them all if it really came down to a head-on battle. Which it hopefully wouldn't, but Besai did not trust their luck as of late.
"We'll find Kai when we're done with the plan," Pixal promised. "I'm sure he will go to…exhaustive lengths to keep himself safe. Take comfort in that, if you can, and focus on the task at hand."
"Come on," Merv murmured, taking her younger sister by the hand. Besai numbly allowed herself to get pulled to the fire. "Get yourself dried off. I'll start breakfast."
"We don't want to get caught between a thousand stone warriors and the ocean," Pixal added. "I hate to rush you but we need to get going as soon as we've eaten."
Merv nodded and went to prepare a hasty meal, leaving Besai alone by the sputtering fire.
Hoy, Kai. This two steps forward, one step back thing is getting annoying... Get'cher act together, please.
Sorry, you guys! I know you're even more tired of Kai's antics than I am. But we're almost done, I promise.
Ronin, though... That poor man. He isn't my absolute favorite character in this story, but I definitely admire him more than anyone else. He's older and more mature than just about every other main character, and it really shows in the way he deals with himself and others. Luv him to pieces.
And Besai. Moons, that poor girl. To put it into perspective, she was about 16 in that nightmare scene. Gah, she needs hugs... Can we all just give her a group hug right now?
Zane and Josi. Heh. Can we just call their ship Titanic? X'D HAHAHA...haha...ha. You know? Because it wasn't supposed to sink and it did...? Yeah okay sorry.
Oh, yes! We've reached over 100 favorites and follows since the last update! Thank you all so much. I seriously don't deserve this. Love you all. *Hugs*
Okay, I've gotta get going with my day. Ya'll know that I appreciate reviews, so thank you in advance for those. I'll hopefully see you next week, but we'll see. And just so you know, I don't intend for there to be a break this long between updates again. Sorry again for that. I know it can be hard to follow along when updates are so intermittent.
Have a good week, ya'll! God bless!