Echoes of a Shattered Age (28 page)

At one point, Kenyatta was at the lead and noticed that they were leaning in the direction of a patch of woods on their right. His eyes lit in alarm, for although the woods would provide ease from the harsh crosswinds, he was unsure they would be able to hold enough control not to slam into a tree if the wind shifted suddenly. When the wind shifted in favor of them again, he heard Kenjiro’s voice from behind.

“No matter the shift of the wind, push forward. The canyon is close and those woods are yet closer.”

Kenyatta glanced back and nodded. When he looked back ahead, he could see the rim of the canyon, and soon they would begin their descent. The canyon was deep and rocky, with no distinct shape to it. There was not much in the way of trees or plant life, but many large and small rocks dotted the walls and floor, and the smoothness of the canyon wall was an indication of the years of the harsh winds carving and polishing the landscape like a master sculptor.

He noticed a deep, narrow crevice snaking away to the east, like a giant serpent fleeing the moaning winds. Doubt filled Kenyatta’s mind as he considered their plan.
I hope this foolishness works,
he thought.
I’m tired of runnin’ everywhere.
He felt a burning in his legs that he was sure the others felt as well.

When they finally reached the rim of the canyon, everyone trotted to a not-so-graceful stop, and bent over with hands on knees.

After she’d caught her breath, Akemi walked to the front of the group and peered over the rim of the canyon. She pointed to the narrow crevice that Kenyatta had spied earlier. It was a mile away, more or less, and they would have to descend and cross the floor of the canyon to reach it.

“I grow weary,” Shinobu said, his voice barely audible above the howling wind. “Are we to make our way to that crevice first or rest once we reach the bottom?”

Kenjiro scanned the canyon. “Time is against us. We should try to make the crevice first as quickly as possible. We can rest then.”

Shinobu frowned. “I understand, but our pace will be slowed by fatigue, unless the wind lifts and carries us to our destination.”

The mischievous glint of excitement that crossed Akemi’s labored face made him wish he’d withheld his sarcasm.

“Does anyone feel like adventure?” she asked. Kenjiro, having known his ninja sister all his life, turned a wary look on her. Shinobu and Kita frowned incredulously, while Kenyatta shared the ninja’s devious smile.

“I tink adventure what we been doing all dis time,” Kenyatta replied in his islander accented western tongue. The others eyed him with confused expressions and Kita laughed. The smile on the ninja’s face looked as if it belonged on a tigress, and with a raised eyebrow that the Jamaican could only interpret as seductive, she knuckled him in his side and pointed to the crevice. Excitement practically glinted in her eyes.

“Adventure! We will time the wind and leap with it.” She turned to face the others just as they exploded with disbelieving laughter. “If anyone has a better suggestion, let him speak it now!” Realizing that the woman was serious, they frowned.

“Do you really believe the wind will carry us that far?” Kita asked.

“No matter how far,” she replied. “Whatever the distance it will be faster than if we run.”

“And what of the landing?” Shinobu said. “It may be a bit difficult to stop before slamming into the canyon wall or crashing into the ground because the wind decided to have sport with our vulnerability. And then, of course, there is the little matter of gravity. The farther we fall, the faster we fall, and the heavier we get.”

“Have we not done things already that are physically impossible for any other human being?” the ninja replied.

“Yes,” Shinobu said, “but none of it has included a hundred feet of free fall.”

Seeing the unrelenting hesitation, she declared them timid and disgusting, then turned to the canyon and crouched.

She really means to do it!
Shinobu thought. To his surprise, Kenyatta was the first to move beside her, then, rather tentatively, Kenjiro joined them, followed by an equally apprehensive Kita. With a sigh to the heavens above, the strider moved to join the group.

Can’t live forever,
he thought. As he peered over the cliff, the excitement contaminated him as he too crouched on the edge, waiting for the right moment. The wait wasn’t long, and the wind shifted against their backs once again. As one, the five warriors leaped from the cliff. Everyone glided on the edge of nervousness, anticipating the wind to shift again and bring them to a stop, and an untimely death.

Luck was with them, and they made a gradual descent into the canyon where the wind was more consistent than above.

And so they glided, ever downward. Though buffeted by the occasional gust, or change in wind direction, the five warriors were able to maintain a measure of control as they were carried in the air toward the canyon floor.

Beautiful was the view from the air. Every child fantasized about flight, and the five companions were no different. Hardened veteran warriors were replaced by excited children laughing and giggling as they rode the winds to the ground. All except Kenjiro, who maintained discipline.

Kita and Kenyatta laughed like boys taking in the sights with a childlike sense of wonder.

Even the strider, Shinobu, enjoyed the ride. He could hardly believe the wonder of flying so high above the ground. He was reminded of the bird he’d seen earlier, and for the first time, knew what it must be like to fly high above the ground.

Kenjiro saw a light in Akemi’s eyes that he hadn’t seen since the fight with the pit demons. Seeing his sister enjoying herself, he relaxed a little.

Although her brother was ever the pragmatic samurai, it appeared to Akemi that he was actually enjoying the experience, and that made her smile even wider. Kenjiro noticed her elation and they fed from each other’s excitement, like two adventurous siblings running to the next “trouble” they could find.

***

Chapter Thirty-Three

Iel and his apprentice watched with amusement as the five warriors glided into the valley. Mira couldn’t believe what she saw.

“They are amazing!” she said. “How can they find fun when facing such a future? And the ninja. She fights the dark power in her, yet she can still smile.”

Iel cast a knowing smile on his student. “The future will be what it will be, but until it has arrived, there is no reason to dread it. We prepare, and we move bravely to meet it, but until we have met the future, we must live in the present.”

He turned and looked out beyond the gardens of the tower to the fields beyond. “One can choose to dread a fearful future, or prepare to meet the future while living in the now.”

“I envy them,” she said.

“Why is that?” Iel replied.

“They possess power unlike anyone in this world,” Mira answered.

“And with that power lies a heavy burden,” Iel responded. “They carry a burden not many could bear. They have seen many battles, and other unspeakable things in this world that would take the sight from your eyes and the quiet from your mind. A lifetime of meditation and guidance from a remarkable teacher has brought four of them through a harsh life. The fifth warrior remains a mystery to me. He fights as they do, and his weapon seems to have some form of power to fight demons. I would like to know how that is.”

Iel concentrated on the strider. “I wonder where this warrior comes from, and how he came to be.” He turned back to Mira. “You speak of envy, as if they are different from you. They are not.”

The Ilanyan left her to ponder his words and went to the fields to make one last check on the defensive preparations. Mira stood alone in the room, lines of confusion creasing her forehead.
Aren’t they different?
she thought as she gazed at the wall that showed the five traveling warriors.
They are different from me, from everyone. What could Master Iel have meant by that?
Though she was capable of things most people were not, she was not able to jump so high, or move so fast. She could not leap from a high cliff overlooking a valley, and glide to the ground unharmed. She turned away from the wall, and it returned to its normal multicolored state.

Iel watched her in a small corner of his mind’s eye. She had practically grown up in the tower and thought of all she did as normal a life as anyone would lead. She never questioned anything in life unless he challenged her to do so. He patted a unicorn standing next to him. Its smooth white coat was like silk, and its mane was wild about its head. It looked up at the Ilanyan and blew a playful snort from its nose. Iel looked at the young one, its mighty horn glistening in the sun as if polished with lacquer.

“I don’t know why humans live such short lives,” he said to his exotic companion. “They seem to take so long to understand things yet more often than not they fear what they do not understand. Perhaps in time we will both understand them, my friend.” The beautiful animal tossed its head and nuzzled his arm in response. He gave it a gentle pat on the neck, then walked out to the fields. Magical beasts of every kind guarded the land like sentinels, unmoving and awaiting the coming storm.
It will be a great battle,
Iel thought.
The likes of which the human world has never seen, and will probably never know of.

* * *

Iel strode across the fields of Takashaniel and gazed at the many magical beings gathered to protect the precious tower. Not far away, he spotted a group of Rizanti fighters. Though every one of the magical defenders of Takashaniel was spawned from earth magic, these creations were an expression of protection. Rizanti were from wild earth magic, and only appeared for one whose need was genuine and unselfish. They were tall by human standards, each standing at about six feet nine inches. Their long heads were pointed, front to back, and their sleek, thin bodies were a blue-silver color, but with a hint of transparency.

They each carried long, oval-shaped weapons with sharp tips on each end, while the sides of the weapon were honed to a cutting edge. The grip was in the center, requiring precision and confidence since the weapon would be dangerous to the wielder as well as the adversary. The five magical fighters stood tall and passive, waiting.

Iel moved on to inspect the magical wards, making his way toward a humanoid-looking man no taller than four feet. For his stature, his shoulders were broad and thick, and his short, stout legs and arms were heavily muscled. Lines of experience creased his curly-bearded face. He was dressed in ragged brown trousers that were shredded at the ankles, and two thick suspenders held them up, each strap lined with two-inch-long spikes. The club he rested on his left shoulder was almost as big as he was and was littered with spikes. He glowed with the magical energy that sustained his artificial likeness.

“Time come er soon,” he said. “We feel strong bad force come er this way fast … get here soon.”

“Yes,” Iel said. “And I believe we will be ready.”

“Brunts always ready for fight,” the short warrior said, referring to the name of his kinsmen earned as a result of them always receiving the brunt of battle. “Brunts be ready for a fight. We’s just hope they’re ready for a fight with us.”

Iel smiled. “I think you will get your wish, my friend.” The magical warrior turned with a snort and huffed back to his group that stood not far away.

The Ilanyan walked through the fields with his unicorn companion at his side, passing the many small platoons of magical warriors. In the distance he found the one he sought.

Grimhammer looked down at Iel and nodded. With the equine part of his body the size of a Clydesdale, the centaur stood head to hoof at nearly ten feet tall. His human torso was equally large and heavily muscled.

In a hand the size of Iel’s head, the centaur held a six-foot-long shaft with a three foot hammer head, a spike on each end. It was the weapon of his namesake, and quite intimidating.

Iel looked up at the mighty centaur, then at his incredible weapon, which must have weighed halfway between a hundred to two hundred pounds.

“I should be here in my true form,” Grimhammer rumbled. “Not cowering behind this magical likeness.”

“We could not risk losing such a mighty warrior as yourself, my friend. These are major demons, summoned from the deepest pits of the abyss.” The Ilanyan offered a disarming smile. “The brunts argued as well, but I convinced them as I did you, that magical representations of yourselves were far a better choice.” Grimhammer grumbled in his deep, booming voice, and the ground vibrated beneath them.

“Magic is powerful, but it cannot copy the real thing,” the centaur replied. “My real form should be here to fight with honor.”

“None are braver than the mighty Grimhammer,” Iel responded. “I have witnessed your prowess in our adventures together, old friend. But you must understand that Quentranzi are a different kind of monster, not born of this world or even this dimension. The world is changing rapidly and you will be needed throughout the course of its evolution. It is for this reason that I have asked you to avoid the fight directly.”

The proud centaur let out a deep snort and stamped his front hoof, looking to the fields ahead. He was unusual for his kind, having two horns atop his head that grew from the sides and curled up, as if reaching for the heavens. The centaur was a mighty warrior known by many in the stories of the battles of old. Ironically, his kind were known to humans, but only in mythology.

Iel patrolled the rest of the fields, checking on the remaining wards and battalions of magical warriors. Unlike the centaurs and the brunts, these creatures were created specifically for battle. Iel wanted to minimize the harm to any living creature, thus was he granted these magical beings through earth magic.

Despite his efforts, the guardian was concerned that it would not be enough. Once fighting, magical creatures could only sustain their form for a limited time. If the battle lingered too long, the forces would diminish.

Another concern was the centaurs and the brunts. Grimhammer was right. These were only magical representations of the physical warriors, and were less capable than their real counterparts. Iel could only pray to the Daunyans that it would be enough.

He turned back to the tower see Mira standing on one of the balconies. With his keen Ilanyan eyes, he saw that she was looking past him at the distant sky, lines of worry etched in her forehead. He followed her gaze, and saw a sky that was dark as night even though the day was still young. The darkness was traveling toward them, swallowing everything in its path.

Iel clenched his jaw. “And so it begins.”

***