Girl of Myth and Legend (3 page)

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Authors: Giselle Simlett

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Horror, #Dark Fantasy, #Romance, #Fantasy, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Coming of Age, #Teen & Young Adult

BOOK: Girl of Myth and Legend
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This world is red: the sky, the atmosphere, the ground, the remains of buildings—all dark red. I glance at the sun: instead I find a blazing, blood-red eclipse. Silence reigns in the sinister world—it’s almost a noise itself.

My foot hits something soft. I look down. I wish I hadn’t. Bodies—everywhere. Hundreds of them. A battlefield. They’re covered in ash and dirt, some with their eyes open, distant. I move back, hyperventilating, then turn, preparing to run, when I realise what I’m facing. Lying against a large slab of concrete are four corpses, and though I’ve never seen these people in my life, I feel like I have, because a great welling of shame envelops me as if I should feel guilty for their deaths. I focus on the girl with bright blue hair.
I know you
, I think.
Oh God, I know you.
But I don’t.

The ground beneath me begins to tremble, the pieces of rubble bouncing and clattering. I peer up and my jaw drops. The sky is folding in on itself, the remaining stars glinting into non-existence. The sun becomes distorted under the heavy red mist.

‘Da-Dad? Dad! I don’t want to be here! Please, let me out! Now! Dad!
Please
!’

The quaking stops—then I hear something, no, someone, emerging from the midst of the chaos, and a breath escapes me. The debris clears from her path as if some invisible force is shifting it, and around her is what I can only describe as an aura radiating an unfathomable darkness, but that’s not what bewilders me. Though the girl is older than me, I think… no, I’m certain this girl is
me
.

Her clothes are ripped and dirty, her body cut and bleed-ing. Her face is impassive and her eyes reflect such lifelessness, such emptiness, that it sends a shiver through my body. Her expression may be indifferent, and yet, as if we’re connected, as if I can feel her heart beating in my chest, I feel her
rage
, her determination, her immeasurable, consuming despair, as if it were my own. But there is something more than anguish in her: there is a purpose; there is an end. She holds her palms out at her side and around them forms a dark vapour.

‘Please,
don’t
!’ A voice. A man’s voice unfamiliar to me, but I know it. I know it with my entire being. ‘Don’t let this world end in sorrow! I beg of you, Leonie!’

My other self stops, though she doesn’t turn her gaze. ‘What use is this world to me without you in it?’ It is my voice, and yet so foreign to me. She walks through the path of destruction, the distortion of the world increasing. I, however, turn to the one who has spoken, the one who I’d live and die for, but before their figure moulds into place—

I jump onto my feet, slamming against the wall of the cottage. I stare wide-eyed at Dad, trying to regain control of my breath. He looks just as horrified as I feel.

The living room.

I’m back in the living room.

I
love
this living room.

‘Wh-what just…?’ I stutter.

‘The future,’ he says, as if showing someone the future is an everyday thing.

‘The future,’ I repeat dumbly. ‘The future. That was the future.
My
future.’ My heart won’t stop hammering against my chest; my head won’t stop spinning and whirling.

‘The Ch-Chosen. You weren’t lying. Not nuts. Chosen exist. You’re Chosen.’

‘Yes, and you are, too, Leonie.’

Well, wave bye-bye to my disbelief, because I’m now certain that what I saw was real, though unreal, as it has yet to happen.

‘How do I get
unChosen
?’ I ask, numb. ‘What… what was
wrong
with me?’ I ask. ‘Why was I there?’

His eyes narrow, though not at me. ‘I… don’t know. I have visions of the future, but I don’t always know how certain paths begin. I’ve never seen that before.’

‘Why have you never told me a-any of this? I-I don’t get this. I don’t understand. Why have you never told me that I’m… Chosen. Why have you kept this a secret?’

‘I… because…’ He pauses. ‘Sit down, Leonie. You look like you’re about to faint.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘Please, sit down.’

‘Answer me!’

‘I will, I promise, but please, sit down first.’

So I sit down, or maybe the right description would be collapse, on the sofa. Dad comes over to me, handing me a tissue from his pocket. I look at it, questioning.

‘Your nose is bleeding,’ he says.

‘O-oh.’ I take the tissue and wipe my nose. ‘What I saw, where I was… where is that place? Where was I?’

‘The Imperium, home of the Chosen. You were within the walls of the Imperium.’

The home of the Chosen, and sometime in my future, something will destroy it.

‘What use is this world to me…?’

Is that something
me
?

The TV turns on, scattering my thoughts as it flips through the channels, and the lights in the room flicker. I look at my hands, wondering if
I’m
causing the disturbance, until the TV screen goes black and the lights stay off, and there’s a knock on the door.

‘And here they’ve come, of course.’ He sighs. It’s not one of his usual ‘Dad’ sighs, but a heavy one, full of knowing and dread and regret.

‘Wait. What?’ I say. I can’t concentrate with all the thoughts screaming in my head. ‘Who’s come? What’s going on? Dad?
Dad
.’

‘They’ve come for you, Leonie, now that you’ve awoken as a Chosen.’

Goosebumps prickle up my skin.

‘I didn’t want them to find you.’ He mutters it, but I swear that’s what he said. He stands up from the sofa. ‘It’s OK. I’m here. Don’t be afraid.’

‘Wait!’ I grab his arm as he nears the door.

He smiles, and it’s a sad one. ‘When I open this door, everything will change for you, and I’m sorry. It’ll be all right, though, I promise. It will be all right.’

‘Then… why do you look terrified?’

He goes to speak, but frowns instead. ‘Be brave, Leonie.’ And he opens the door.

KORREN

THE SHORTCOMINGS OF SERVITUDE

This engulfing darkness hasn’t always been home. I’ve felt the warmth of the sun on my back, had the wind brush through my hair, gazed upon a vast, starlit sky. But I’ve known none of these things for… I don’t even know for how long anymore, and I don’t really care. I’m glad to be confined to these shadows, glad that this is the punishment for what I did. I’ve existed here like you might exist inside a dream: aware, but not completely, with eyes glossed over and the world somewhat unreachable. This is a place where senses don’t exist, where past, present and future are mere concepts, and where pain and happiness are foreign sensations. Give me eternity here and it’ll be a blessing… not that I deserve one.

I hear something, though I can’t say what it is. Am I imagining things now? Have I finally lost my mind to the darkness? Whatever it is, my usually dazed mind becomes alert, and I sit straighter. The noise seems to be getting closer, and I’m acutely aware that it threatens my nothingness.

Just leave me here
, I want to say.
Let me stay.

As if the darkness surrounding me is a curtain, it lifts slightly so light spills in. I turn my head away. Ah,
warmth
. It slips into my world of shadows, bringing with it a piercing light. Half of me welcomes the light; the other half curses it. Light brings life, sensations,
memories
, and I don’t want to remember anything.

Damn it.
Why can’t you just let me

?

Footsteps. And then…

Figures come and stand over me. I look up at them with mild interest; that is, until they grab my arms and pull me up. My muscles are weak; so, as I fight against them, I know how pointless it is. I can’t let them steal me away from here, though. They’re trying to take me away from the shadows, my solitude. I don’t want to leave. I want to stay.

I continue to struggle until one of the figures slams me to the ground, and my world spins into darkness.

_________________

Before I even open my eyes, I know I’m no longer in the shadow cells, but in a
cage
. I feel the cold metal against my back, a dazzling and artificial light entering through the gaps. I move, and there’s a sharp pain in my head.

I’m in a hallway. In front of me is a cage with a kytaen inside, and more cages in front of him. I glance behind me: another kytaen and, behind her, more cages.

‘What’s going on?’ I ask, my voice so hoarse it carries no strength.

‘I am not sure,’ the kytaen behind me says. Despite her small stature, she exudes strength.

‘How did we… get here?’ I say.

‘Chosen came and took a dozen of us from Aris,’ she replies.

‘They transported us to The Core,’ I hear another kytaen say, though I can’t see him, ‘so we thought maybe they had arranged a keeper for us, then we were put in these cages…’

Despite this, no one is in a panic. Typical of my kind to be so resigned. There was once a time I would have been frustrated, even angry over that, but now…

I hear a door opening and the cages roll forward, without assistance, and are taken outside. I flinch, the sudden ray of sunlight blinding me. I rub my eyes and look around. The first thing I notice is the sky; that endless, dazzling
sky
. But as my eyes wander down, that sudden exhilaration disperses.

We’re in a large, open space enclosed by a circular steel wall. I search the walls for any sign of Chosen, but find no one. The ground is dusty with little grass, and the air is dry and humid. At first I thought we were being taken to the Beasts’ Fighting House, a place where two kytaen are pitted against each other and Chosen bet on which will kill the other. But that can’t be what
this
is, for two reasons: first, because there are more than two of us; and second, because there are no spectators. Then again, I have been confined for… well, a long time. Things may have changed.

The cages wheel themselves into a large circle so that we’re spaced out from one another. I count over a dozen kytaen, and I get to have a proper look at them. It’s been a while since I’ve seen my own kind. I even recognise a few of them.

A slight wind pushes the dirt along the ground, skimming over the wheels of the cage and through the bars. The silence is profound as we all wait. What we are waiting for, I don’t know.

Then, a voice rings out through the air, though I can’t see anyone. ‘This test is being supervised by Council members Anala Froi, Felix Harris and Orion Rah-uh.’

Test
?

‘It has been arranged for the purpose of choosing a kytaen for the designated Chosen,’ the woman continues.

That sparks a little of my attention. Designated Chosen? Usually, when a kytaen is selected to protect a Chosen, there is no test involved. It’s decided based on the kytaen’s and Chosen’s strengths, and whether or not they are compatible. In fact, I’m sure all of these calculations are done on a computer.

‘Please note that the time is half past the ninth sun hour.’

I have the feeling that this announcement isn’t for us, but for the sake of documentation. Of course the Chosen wouldn’t address
us
. To them, kytaen are just tools, objects, shields that protect them. We’re not even worthy of the title
slave
.

Ah. It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. I let out a sigh, closing my eyes and resting my head against the bars. I listen to the woman’s voice as she goes on and on and on. I wish she’d hurry up so I can go back to my shadows, and if not that, so that they can just kill me. But on and on she goes as the sun blazes on above us.

‘And so to conclude…’

Finally
, I think.

‘…whichever kytaen is left standing will be deemed the most satisfactory for the designated Chosen.’

Th-thud.
I’d forgotten my heart until it begins to beat like a drum against my chest.
‘Whichever kytaen is left standing…’

‘Test commencing in twenty…’

I sit up, eyes wide. Wait…
what
?

‘Nineteen…’

Glancing around, all I see are confused faces.

And then…

Most of the kytaen that had been in their human form transform into their elemental form, barely fitting inside the cages. As I watch them, my head throbs at the realisation of my being here.

‘Sixteen…’

Wait. Just hold on a second. This can’t be happening. I was taken from my confinement, my solitary existence, for this, a test, a
game
? I was once powerful, formidable even, but after spending so long in confinement, my body is weak and worn. The other kytaen will have every advantage over me.

I look across to the kytaen nearest to me. She is still in her human form, hands clenched around the bars. She’s the only one who seems as torn as me.

‘Thirteen…’

I don’t want to kill my brethren. In the past, I have killed many kytaen, sometimes to protect the Chosen I called keeper, and other times simply because my keepers wanted them dead. But this is different. This is not killing for the sake of my keeper’s orders or survival, but for the sake of
my
survival. Killing them means I am putting my life above theirs.

Well, this is all right, isn’t it? Isn’t it? Hadn’t I always wanted death anyway? Before they put me in the shadow cells, I had begged for it. So isn’t it better to die by my own kind’s hand than a Chosen’s? That in itself is a form of rebellion against our slavers, to refuse to be a part of their game.

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