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Chapter XIII
I struggled my way with Mara's help, out of the room and down the hall. The entire time my shoulder was raked with pain and my stomach felt like a bomb had gone off inside. I once had food poisoning, but the feeling was ten times worse. I couldn't really tell where we were going, because my teary eyes blurred my vision. I tried to speak, but my voice always caught in my throat, resulting in me coughing. The worst part was that I could simply not erase the image of Commander Joel's bloody body and my sword thrusted through him. It hung there like a painting, occasionally fading but always returning. Each reappearance came with pains and guilt shuddering through my heart, whether my physical or spiritual heart, I didn't know. I couldn't take the misery anymore. My knees buckled and I fell to the floor, with Mara still attempting to hold me up.
"Amos, Amos are you okay?" Mara cried out, though I could barely process what she was saying. I curled into a ball and tried to endure the continuing torture. The tears had finally stopped when I was hit full force with a splitting headache. I screamed bloody murder as the tension tightened in my head. The only good it did was to permanently remove the ghostly image of Commander Joel, though there was little comfort to be found in that. I made a silent wish for somebody to split my head open, just to release all the tension. I knew such an act would kill me, but it seemed well worth it. I'd be free of the prophecy at least. Darkness began to close in as the headache worsened and the bile in my stomach threatened to boil. I fought to retain consciousness, but it proved to be a losing battle.
My sleep was peaceful, to say the least. There were no dreams or memories that attempted to sneak up on me. It was just the bliss of darkness. When I awakened I felt a lot better. The pain in my shoulder had lessened to the point of being tolerable. The headache and nausea had vanished completely. However, my body was coated in sweat and I was shivering, despite the warmth of the castle. Mara was leaning against the wall, chewing on a granola bar. When she realized I was awake, she offered me half. I took it eagerly, because I felt famished.
"How long was I out?" I asked.
"Only about half an hour. Glad that you're feeling better. You probably want this back," she said, holding out her hand. At the end, my necklace dangled. I put it on and relished in the familiar weight and the cool metal against my skin. Immediately, my shivering ceased.
"Thanks. I don't know what happened," I apologized.
"Your gift. People with the Gift of Mercy who still have their hearts soft can't handle harming somebody, let alone killing them. It's their weakness," Mara explained to me. It made sense, but didn't seem to me like a weakness. Nonetheless, I had learned the consequences of going against my own nature and gift. It did make me think of the ordeal that I would be facing after I killed the King.
"How much further to the King's chamber?" I asked.
"We're already here," Mara announced, waving her hand around the room. The room was completely plated in gold and only half as big as the previous rooms. The far end, instead of having more hallways, held a set of door that were as smooth as glass and made of platinum.
"The King has expensive tastes," I observed.
"Yes, I'm aware," Mara sighed. She crawled over to me and started to remove my jacket. I tried to scoot away, but I wasn't able to move very fast or very well yet.
"What are you doing?" I accused.
"Sorry for trying to check your wound," Mara lashed back, her face starting to redden.
"Oh, continue," I said, my own face getting red. It wasn't my fault I had misread the situation. Mara managed to remove my jacket with some struggle. It revealed the bloody mess that was my shoulder. The entire sleeve of my shirt had turned dark red, and blood had created small streams down my arms. Mara rolled up my sleeve to actually see the wound. It was a lot deeper than I had originally thought, and was still bleeding slightly. I didn't know what Mara planned to bandage it with until she ripped off strips of fabric from her robe sleeves. She wrapped them tightly around my shoulder until the bleeding had stopped. She also wrapped a strip around the cut on my wrist, which I had forgotten.
"That's the best I can do. I don't have the Gift of Healing," Mara apologized. I rolled my shoulder and flexed my wrist. It still hurt, but I didn't want to let Mara know that.
"Thanks, that feels a lot better. Speaking of which, what is your gift?" I asked. Mara's eyes became distant.
"You'll be finding out very soon, trust me," Mara said. The way she said it sounded ominous and depressing, and effectively ended the conversation. We sat there for a bit longer, listening to the silence. Each passing minute weighed heavier with dread.
Go now. The Voice commanded, and I knew better than to ignore God's commands.
"Let's go," I told Mara. I climbed to my feet, with some help from Mara's pushing. She then stood up. We walked over to the platinum door and gazed upon it. Mara took my hand and gave it a squeeze before releasing it. Together we pushed the door open and marched into the King's chamber. The entire room was of the most exquisite tastes. The ceiling was one entire window, curved ever so slightly to show we were at the top of the sphere portion of the building. The walls were covered in gold plating with copper-spun vines that possessed silver leaves dancing in random fashions. The floor was constructed entirely of some sort of pitch black stone. Tiny translucent gems of various colors were embedded in the floor and organized into extravagant patterns. At first, I thought the stones were fake, but closer inspection revealed them to be genuine diamonds. A single long carpet, made of the most luxurious red silk one could imagine, ran from the foot of the door all the way to a set of steps on which the King's throne sat, proud and magnificent.
"Welcome, you traitor, to the grandest room in the entire world, my throne room," the King greeted us, stepping out from behind his throne and sitting down. King Abimelchk's voice was deep and rich, and reminded me of chocolate cake for some reason. The throne was made of platinum and had been worked to possess a variety of intricate depictions. They mostly depicted Bible heroes accomplishing great deeds. There was David in his battle against Goliath, Daniel in the lions' den, and Noah riding his ark, but that wasn't even a fraction of them. The edges of the throne were encrusted with an alternating pattern of rubies, sapphires, and emeralds. King Abimelchk was far less impressive than his throne. He had a mop of greasy black hair and bushy beard, which curled at the tip. He had brown eyes that seemed to be tinted the same color as rust. As with any stereotypical ruler, he had an enormous potbelly. He wore a robe similar to Mara's, except his had purple trim instead of gold trim and was significantly larger. The only symbol of his right to rule was a gold band around his forehead with a single clear diamond embedded in the front. Being called a traitor, I felt my anger begin to boil again. I had gone through so much pain and so many trials to get to the point in which I had enough courage to face the prophecy, that I wasn't about to let the fat King talk down to me.
"Traitor? Seriously? No, it is you, Abimelchk, who is the traitor! How many people did you kill, just because you were frightened? You have brought the prophecy upon yourself by trying to stop it, and it shall be me who will follow God's will and complete said prophecy!" I shouted at him, the volume and my courage growing with every word.
"Amos, be quiet," Mara murmured so I barely heard her.
"What?" I asked.
"Be quiet!" she repeated, only shouting. Abimelchk only chuckled from his throne.
"You'd be wise to listen worm. She has the same temper as I do," Abimelchk advised.
"Why?" I asked Mara, ignoring him.
"Because he isn't talking about you. I'm the traitor," Mara explained, lowering her head in shame. Abimelchk laughed again and clapped his hands together in mock applause.
"She admits it! You really think I would even address you, a meager speck in comparison to my greatness, first? Only a few people deserve that honor," the King announced.
"But why is she a traitor?" I asked.
"Why, she ran away from home and joined forces with her father's sworn enemy," Abimelchk explained.
"Whose her father?" I questioned, though the panic rising in my throat knew I wouldn't like the answer. Abimelchk flashed me an evil grin, which managed to be even more menacing than Commander Joel's.
"You'll love this one. It's me, the King! I'm her father!" Abimelchk declared so that all the world could hear it.
"Mara, please tell me it's not true," I begged to her, trying my best to deny such a thing. However, it made perfect sense. It explained the mansion, why people called her Princess, and how she'd known the entrance code. Mara drooped her head in further shame.
"He's not lying Amos. I really am the Princess," Mara mumbled. A buzzer of disappointment went off in my head. I considered being angry at her for not telling me, but it didn't really make sense to me. After all, she had betrayed her own father to help me.
"Never mind that. Your time is just about up," I announced, which seemed to perk Mara up.
"Amos, I already told you. Please be quiet," Mara commanded. She straightened herself up, tucked her lovely white hair behind her ears, and strode across the throne room with a gait I had never seen her walk, precise and confident. It was how any person of royalty should present themselves. When she reached the throne, she stood firm and looked Abimelchk dead in the eye.
"Father, I'm sure you are interested in the reason as to why I left," Mara said, not a hint of emotion in her voice.
"You mean ran away? I'm sure it has something to do with your mother," Abimelchk admitted, though he didn't seem to care. Mara's face went red with rage.
"Don't just dismiss it like it was nothing! You locked her away in the tower!" Mara screamed. The King raised his eyebrow, but just to show he acknowledged her, not out of surprise.
"It's not my fault she has the Gift of Mercy. I didn't want to do it, but it's better than execution. Just be grateful you got the Gift of Leadership from me, otherwise you would've been raised in the same cell," the King defended. Mara lowered her head, seemingly out of sadness. Suddenly, soft laughter could be heard. Mara threw her head back as her laughter grew harder and louder.
"Mara, are you feeling alright?" I asked, taking a cautious step forward.
"Father, you have no idea how wrong you are. I'll be the one to end! For I too, have the Gift of Mercy!" Mara shouted in the King's face. Abimelchk's jaw dropped in shock, and so did mine. However, I remember how Mara had snapped me out of my anger during my fight with Commander Joel. She must've read my heart in order to do that. However, her heart was still too hard to possibly give anyone mercy.
"Mara, then why is your heart so hard?" I asked.
"I knew this day would someday come upon me. So I hardened my heart as to not reveal my gift and prepare myself for this day. I have no intentions of suffering the same way you did after this all over," Mara explained without taking her eyes off Abimelchk. She had known all along, and led me on a rope into believing I would be the one to do it. The truth lifted a huge burden off my shoulders. The King stood up, and I realized just how tall he was. He towered over Mara.
"Then you truly are a traitor. Still, how do you plan to kill me? You have no weapon," Abimelchk taunted. He shifted his robes and I caught sight of a flash of metal. He was armed with a knife. Panic rushed into my mind. I ripped my necklace off.
"Mara, catch this and recite the verse Hebrews 4:12," I shouted, hurling the necklace toward her. She stumbled away from Abimelchk to catch the necklace. As soon as it touched her fingers, the King officially unveiled his knife. It was a short blade that had slight curve to it. The hilt was simple gold with no decorations or imprints. The butt of it was a blood red ruby.
"I know what you're doing. Don't you dare," Abimelchk warned, but in vain. He began to move toward her.
"For the Word of God is living and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the division of soul and spirit, and of joints, and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart," Mara spoke it in such a way it sounded like a desperate prayer, a cry for help. She let out a scream so loud that it startled Abimelchk to a stop. Heaven itself probably heard the shriek. The necklace burned brightly as it turned molten. Mara tried shaking her hand to dislodged the hot necklace, like I had done the first time I had ever transformed it. However, it remained steady as it seared into her skin. The heat grew more intense, to the point that I could feel it. Mara screamed one last time as the necklace glowed its brightest. When the light died, Mara was holding my sword, which looked freshly polished and sharpened. Mara seemed to struggle under its weight, but she managed to brandish it effectively enough.
"Now you die," Abimelchk growled. He ran toward Mara.
"You see this weapon? It will be the instrument of your destruction," Mara declared. Once Abimelchk was within sword's length, Mara raised my sword over her head and thrust it into Abimelchk fat stomach. He in turned thrust out his knife, and it seemed to miss. Mara withdrew the sword from the King's flesh. Blood coated the front of Abimelchk's robe. Blood dribbled from the corner of his lips, yet he smiled.
"That'll teach you," Abimelchk concluded. He ran for the throne room door, but only made it a couple steps until he collapsed, dead.
"You did it Mara!" I cheered, even though the blood made me feel sick. Mara turned to me with a grim smile, and my worse fear was realized. The entirety of her chest was soaked in blood. At first I thought it was Abimelchk's, but then I noticed stains on his knife. The knife had found a mark. Mara dropped my sword and wilted away like a flower as I ran toward her. I stripped off my jacket and desperately tried to block the bleeding and soak up the blood.
"Amos, please. I'm done for," Mara begged weakly, still wearing her grim smile.
"No, you will not die on me. I've already lost parents, my sister, my uncle. I refuse to lose you too," I shouted, but I could feel my eyes tear up as I said every word. My heart was already becoming wrecked with the sadness.
"Amos, the prophecy is done. We've completed it. I'll say hello to God and Jesus for you. I only hope They'll accept me into Heaven," Mara said, and her words sounded so dreadfully final. I realized she was right, though. Ruth's prophecy had been realized. It hadn't turned out like I had thought. Relief tried to flood through my veins, but Mara's dying prevented that.
"Of course They will. God's mercy is far greater than ours. He can forgive any sin," I promised her, and I knew I was speaking the truth. Mara's smile got bigger at that news. She raised her hand and I saw a cross shaped burn was now present. I placed my hand against hers and our cross burns matched up perfectly.
"Thank you Amos, for everything. I truly fell in love with you. I'll miss you," Mara said. She took a deep breath and her hand slipped from mine. I grabbed, as if that could somehow retain her life. She smiled a bit wider, a smile of peace and happiness. Mara's eyes slid shut, and her last breath was barely audible. I moved the white hair from her face, hoping there would be the slightest bit of warm life. When I could no longer deny it, I unleashed my tears. I had cried streams for Commander Joel, but I sobbed rivers for Mara. I cried into her chest, into my damp jacket. I still held her hand, which had become ice cold. The whole time I stammered gibberish about how I was sorry and begged for her to come back. Eventually I regained enough of myself to speak proper sentences. My eyes hurt from crying, but the tears wouldn't stop.
"God, why? Why did I have to lose her? Haven't I lost enough? Haven't I struggled enough? Why do you forsake me? I did as you wanted! I came to Jericho and the prophecy has been completed. Was this loss really necessary?" I prayed, screaming to the heavens. I just cried harder and harder as the prayer went on. I found myself beginning to recount my whole adventure. The sword fights, the training, and every bittersweet moment. My heart soon took over and the rest of the story seemed to flow from me like a fountain. I had no control over it. My mind, free from having to tell the story, wandered to my memory of the first time I had ever prayed such an emotional prayer.
It was the night after my parents had died. Ruth and I had been moved to live in our neighbor's house for a brief time until an appropriate guardian could be found and all the legal stuff sorted out. It was stormy again that night, and I was still distressed after my parents' death. Ruth had still been too young to fully comprehend what that meant, but I understood.
"God, why? Why did you take them? What did I do to deserve it?" I prayed, crying so much my eyes were becoming puffy. I was sitting on my knees and squeezing my hands together as tightly as I could. I just repeated those three questions as long as I could. I didn't have the endurance to do it too long though, and I ended up falling asleep quickly.
I ripped myself from the memory as it brought upon another fit of tears. I felt like my parents' death was again fresh, and I felt the same way I had back then. Deprived, weak, and powerless. I had finished the story and started blubbering out that old prayer, which seemed useless.
Do not doubt your God. The Voice, the Holy Spirit, shouted inside me. It seemed more solid than ever before, and stronger too. It resonated throughout the whole building, causing it to shake. The shaking suddenly grew more intense, and I knew it was no longer God talking to me. Glass began to rain down. I acted as fast as I could, jumping over top of Mara's body to shield it from the falling glass. One piece of glass caught me in the cheek and left a shallow scratch. Once the glass had stopped falling, I remained huddled over Mara as I heard something, much larger than glass shards, falling. I heard stone breaking, metal crunching, and a hissing noise as if a capsule was sliding open.
"That is the last time I drive a levia," Malachi complained. I looked up to see what had happened. The ceiling had been completely shattered, and resting on the ground was the dented and beat up Mach Impact levia, probably Yalown's. Sapphira climbed out, looking extremely green around the gills.
"Agreed," she muttered. The surprise of seeing them dazed me enough that I was able to stop crying. I scrambled to my feet.
"Malachi? Sapphira? What are you doing here?" I asked. Malachi noticed me and walked over to give me a pat on the back. Unfortunately, he patted me right where my bad shoulder was, causing pain to erupt through my arm.
"Amos, good to see you. Glad you and Mara..." he started, but then he noticed Mara on the ground and grew silent.
"She was the one to complete the prophecy. She paid with her life," I stammered as the waterworks sprung up once again, both from grief and pain. Malachi gave me a hug, as if that could solve anything. Sapphira walked over, her face gloomy.
"Maybe I could try healing her?" Sapphira suggested.
"I don't know. Healing a wound is different than raising someone back to life. It could be dangerous," Malachi advised. I almost agreed that it would be futile, but something told me otherwise. I broke free of Malachi's embrace and grabbed Sapphira's shoulder.
"Please, at least attempt it," I begged. Sapphira considered my request before nodding.
"It can't hurt to try," Sapphira said. She sat down next to Mara and placed her hands on Mara's chest. Sapphira began praying in an almost chant like way, and her hands began to glow green. The green light pulsed through Mara's entire body, spreading out from Sapphira's hands. I watched as the wound in Mara's closed up and sealed shut, leaving only a scar. The scar faded soon after that. Sapphira tried for several more moments, pouring all her energy in the healing. She gave a light groan and passed out. Luckily, Malachi sieged forward to catch his daughter. I knelt by Mara's side and cradled her head in my lap. She looked completely healthy, but her skin had lost all color and she was still cold. Finally and completely defeated, my tears began to fall even more feverishly, splashing on Mara's eyes. Suddenly, I heard a slight breeze. I looked up at the sky, expecting that it was just the whistle of the wind. However, the rain had stopped and the sun was clearly visible. My doubt grew even more, but I lowered my hand over Mara's mouth. It was slight, but I could feel her breathing. The color flooded back into Mara's face, and her eyes fluttered open.
"Am I alive?" Mara asked, dazed but alive. I couldn't believe it. She had been dead moments before, but by a miracle on the magnitude of Moses parting the Red Sea, Mara was alive. I crushed her in a hug, sobbing tears of joy. She took a moment to regain her bearings and remember what had just happened, but she quickly returned the hug.
"Oh, thank God. Thank you God!" I praised the Lord over and over again. Mara pulled away, her eyes also teary.
"This is why you shouldn't doubt God," she grinned. Mara then leaned in and kissed me. I couldn't help but notice her lips tasted like vanilla.