Krymzyn (The Journals of Krymzyn Book 1) (10 page)

“Your service has our respect,” Eval replies. “Now I must leave you, as I need to join the other Disciples. Please, Chase, feel free to quietly ask Sash any more questions you have during the Ritual.”

“Thank you. I’m truly honored to be here for this event.”

She and Tork bow to us before walking down the hill to the other Disciples. Honored, I think, as long as I don’t have to watch the kid get the crap beat out of him by the Tree, and I’m kind of wondering how I’m going to react if he’s in trouble.

“Isn’t that the boy
we saw on the Tall Hill?” I ask, turning to Sash.

The boy stands silently with his back to the Tree, a Keeper at his side and the row of Disciples in front of him.

“Yes. His name is Cavu,” Sash replies. “I believe the Tree will test his strength as well as his cunning.”

My heart continues to race at the feel of her beside me. I slip my hand into hers and grasp it tightly. “Is this all right?”

She squeezes my hand, looking into my eyes. “If you’re in need of nurturing, I’ll provide it for you.”

“I am,” I say. “More than you know.”

A hint of a smile appears on her face again. I want to hug her so badly that my limbs are burning, but I decide that this really isn’t the time or place, especially with some kind of religious or spiritual ceremony about to begin.

I survey the hilltops surrounding the meadow. There can’t be many more than a hundred people here, and Tork said that all of Krymzyn was coming to the Ritual.

“Is this everyone in Krymzyn?” I ask.

“Everyone except for a few Watchers who remain on the walls during the Ritual,” Sash says. “Those who dwell on the Mount are still arriving.”

“What’s the population of Krymzyn?”

“One hundred and twelve is the number of balance. If one dies, then a new child is needed to return us to the number of balance. That number excludes the Guardians of the Infinite Expanse and the Murkovin, but their number is neither greater nor less than what’s needed to maintain balance.”

“That’s it?” I exclaim. “On the whole planet—I mean, plane?”

“That’s the number of balance.”

“Are there a specific number of people for each purpose?”

“There are always seven each of the Disciples, Keepers, Weavers, and Travelers. Seven Apprentices with the color of purpose in their hair. We have twenty-eight Watchers in the Delta, two shifts of fourteen, and fourteen on the Mount, two shifts of seven. Seven Hunters dwell in the Delta and seven on the Mount, as well as seven Constructs in the Delta and seven on the Mount. When the number of children is reduced from seven to six, as will be the case after the Ritual, a child will be born to return the number to seven.”

“Did someone die recently?” I ask, deciding that the only way the math could work out is if they had lost someone.

“A Watcher fell to the Murkovin,” Sash replies flatly.

It’s a lot of information for me to absorb, and I’m still not sure which color is which purpose. I notice that every number is seven or divisible by seven.

“Is there always one Apprentice for each purpose?”

“No,” she says. “If it was that way, a child would know what their purpose would be before their Ritual. We may have several Apprentices for one purpose at any given time, and none for others.”

I quickly count the people with blue hair, coming up with eight. “One of the Travelers must be an Apprentice.”

“You’re correct,” Sash replies before pointing to a tall male Traveler.

The man looks like he’s in his late forties and has medium-length black hair laced with cobalt blue. A young woman stands beside him.

“Tela,” Sash continues, “who we saw on the Tall Hill, is an apprentice Traveler. A man called Larn is her Mentor.”

I recognize Tela, although she’s now a curved beauty of about nineteen. She looks like she should be a bikini model, not someone known for her speed. She’s around five foot eight, her straight black hair highlighted with the same blue as the man’s. Probably feeling my gaze, she turns her head to me. Her round face is solemn as she nods, but I see obvious recognition in her eyes. I smile at her, receiving the usual head tilt at my facial expression that doesn’t exist here—except in Sash now. Just as she did many years before, Tela reminds me of my sister.

“She doesn’t look like she really has the right body type for speed,” I say.

“Traveling speed comes more from the mind than from the body,” Sash replies.

I’m familiar with the mental side of long-distance running, but the way Sash said “traveling speed” implies something more to me than just running fast.

As I scan the people lining the hills again, I stop on a pair of amber eyes fixed on Sash. I remember the man—the green-haired Watcher Sash argued with after she saved me from the sustaining tree. The thick muscles in his neck and arms strain like a sprinter coiled in the starting blocks before a race.

The expression on his face, although serious like everyone else’s here, is different than any I’ve seen in Krymzyn. It’s not the kind of stoic, emotionless face that I’m used to seeing. Leering at Sash might actually be how I’d describe his stare, now that I really think about it.

His eyes drop to our clasped hands then jump to my face. When his eyes narrow and his brows sink, they’re not signs of curiosity like I’ve seen in the others looking my way. In his glare, I see challenge.

I refuse to back down, and I give him my best “what the fuck are you looking at” expression, clenching my jaw so that I know my face looks as tough as I can make it. Contempt for me is what I see.

A giant limb suddenly soars through my vision. I follow its path to watch the branch slam into the side of the bell. After a clamorous ring subsides, Cavu, facing the Disciples, holds his hands out in front of him. Bright, golden light glitters above his palms. He raises his hands over his head for all of us standing on the hills to see.

Cavu turns towards the Tree. All the branches jump into violent motion, butchering the air above the meadow. A few boughs snake high above the ground like they’re waiting for him to make a move. The boy tentatively walks around the outer perimeter of the meadow, studying the trunk. With a sudden burst, he sprints straight towards the Tree.

“Holy
shit
,” I whisper when a branch slams into his midsection, hurling him twenty feet backwards.

He falls to the ground on the edge of the field, a few feet outside the range of the branches. As he gulps for breath, Sash tightly squeezes my hand, sensing my dismay.

“He must use his mind as well as his strength,” Sash says, keeping her eyes on the boy with no change at all in her facial expression. “When he does, he’ll prevail.”

I remember that Sash knows these things before they happen, so I’m somewhat relieved by her statement.

The boy tightens his hands into fists as he stands. After a moment of deliberation, he dashes into the meadow. He stutter-steps and spins when the first limb sails towards him. As though it anticipated his move, a nearby branch is cocked at the ready. It slashes into the boy’s face and upper chest and again knocks him backwards to the ground. He rolls across the turf, away from the Tree, stopping on his stomach.

Shaking his head with frustration, Cavu stares at the grass. Blood streams from his nostrils, drips over his lips, and trickles down his chin.

“He’s learning,” Sash says.

“Learning how to get his
ass
kicked,” I mumble under my breath.              

Her face scolds me when she turns to look into my eyes. “Cavu must know what’s inside him. He must realize what he’s capable of. Only challenge will reveal that.”

I hold her gaze for a moment, nod my understanding, and turn back to the boy. I think about yelling a few words of encouragement, but, given the absolute silence of everyone else here, I decide I better bite my tongue.

The boy stands, clenches his fists again, and aims his eyes straight ahead. Trotting instead of sprinting this time, he starts towards the trunk.

When a limb swoops at him, he dives to the ground and slides narrowly underneath it. A second branch slams straight down from above. Just before it hits, he rolls out of the way and springs to his feet. With muscles bulging through the leathery black pants, his legs churn in a determined sprint.

Another limb swings towards his midsection. With a lowered shoulder, he crushes into the branch, absorbs the impact with his legs, and spins off the blow like a fullback rolling off a tackle. A branch sails in from behind, but he ducks underneath it. Yellow leaves graze over his body, the limb pauses in midair, then it whipsaws at him again. He dips under the backlash and explodes into a final charge at the Tree.

Cutting sharply, he veers past one last branch that passes inches from his head. With his arms spread wide, he flies into the trunk. A shroud of silence falls over the meadow and every branch, every twig and leaf, hangs frozen in the air.

Clutching the bark with his hands, he presses his lips to the Tree. A stunning spectrum of light envelops him, so blinding that I have to close my eyes and turn away. Seconds pass before the light recedes enough for me to look. As the flare fades, Cavu rests his forehead against the trunk and stands motionless, seemingly at one with the Tree. Vibrant green rips through the outer curls of his hair, illuminating the perfect silky black.

With dried blood staining his cheeks and chin, he slowly turns away from the trunk. There’s no triumphant gesture, no sign of elation, but a new and noticeable air of confidence is evident in his stance.

The Disciples and his Keeper drop to their knees. Every person watching from the hills does the same, still not a sound anywhere. Sash releases my hand and pulls my shirt when she sinks to the ground, so I lower myself to a knee beside her. Cavu humbly walks to the Disciples with his head bowed, stops in front of them, and reverently kneels.

“I’m honored to serve my purpose for the balance of Krymzyn,” he loudly proclaims.

Eval rises and looks down at the boy. “And so it shall be, Cavu, Watcher of Krymzyn.”

I’m disappointed that there’s no applause or cheers, no smiles on the faces of the people who watch, nor any other sign of praise. Eval scans the hilltops, her eyes pausing when they reach a green-haired woman.

“Vona, will you please rise?” Eval yells up the hill.

The woman, tall with an athletic build, stands and looks down the hill.

“Cavu will be your Apprentice until he’s needed as a Watcher of Krymzyn,” Eval calls out.

“I’m honored to be his Mentor,” the Watcher replies loudly.

Eval turns to the boy. “Vona will be your guide as you move forward in the ways of your purpose. When a new Watcher is needed to maintain balance, you’ll then fulfill your purpose to Krymzyn.”

The boy stands, bows to Eval, and, with the Keeper he came to Sanctuary with by his side, climbs the hill to the other children. Everyone else rises and strolls away, most to the north, but a few in other directions. After Sash and I both stand, she casually takes my hand in hers. Cavu glances at me as he walks by, so I smile to him.

“Shouldn’t somebody tell him, like, good
job
or something?” I whisper into Sash’s ear.

“He has no need for praise from others,” she replies softly. “The Tree of Vision has already provided him with the greatest praise he can ever know.”

When our eyes fall on each other’s, neither of us looks away. Although six years have passed, the innate feeling of connection to her is just as intense and tangible as it had been when we sat together on the Tall Hill. Emotions that have been buried for so long are finally springing to life. The faint smile returns to her lips, and she knowingly nods her head, telling me that she feels them too.

Sash and I reluctantly turn away from each other when the seven Disciples reach the top of the hill and stop in front of us. The five other than Tork and Eval all bow in my direction, apparently welcoming me back to Krymzyn. I let go of Sash’s hand and return their gesture.

“Did you find the Ritual enlightening?” Eval asks.

“It was interesting, to say the least,” I reply. “I’m really excited for Cavu.”

“We’re all honored by his achievement,” Eval says. “We’re now faced with a decision since, as we discussed, your visit presents another irregularity.”

“I actually gave that a lot of thought back in my world, trying to make sense of all the anomalies.”

“You have vivid memories of Krymzyn while on your plane?” Eval asks in surprise.

“Yes, very vivid,” I answer.

“More than just an illusionary memory as though from a dream?”

“I remember every detail about being here when I’m on Earth. When I come back to Krymzyn, it’s like I never left.”

Eval drifts away in thought for several seconds before replying. “When Tellers visit,” she finally says, “they remember their prior visits when they’re here but have no real memory of being here while on their plane. I would expect you to remember Krymzyn while you’re here, but your memories of this plane while in your world are quite unique.”

“I guess I’m just lucky.”

“I don’t know if luck, a word introduced to our vocabulary from the Earth Teller before you, is the word I’d choose.”

“What word would you choose?” I ask.

“I don’t believe that’s been determined yet,” Eval replies. “After a Ritual of Purpose, our custom is to each Commune in solitude to show gratitude for balance being maintained. It’s become quite evident that your purpose here is different from any Teller before you. Krymzyn appears to want you to know and understand our plane.”

“It seems that way to me. I know I want to learn more.”

“Based on past events, I would say Sash is meant to be your guide on this journey.” Eval turns to Sash. “Rather than each of you spending Communal alone, or Chase with the Disciples, I suggest you show him the northern part of the Delta.”

“I’m honored,” Sash answers, a hint of smile on her face.

“That sounds perfect to me,” I say. “Thank you.”

Eval kneels to the ground, sinks her fingertips into the dirt, and whispers. I can just make out what she says. “Larn, please travel to us.”

I glance around at the few people left walking away from the ceremony. The male Traveler Sash pointed out to me earlier stands on the next hill with Tela by his side. A broad empty meadow separates that hill from the one we stand on. Trim with well-defined muscles, the man appears to be almost as tall as Eval.

He and Tela start to run down the hill towards us. They quickly reach a sprint, and as I watch his long, sleek stride, I think that, if I were still running competitively, I’d want to train with him. I begin to sense an immense power that resides inside him as he speeds down the slope. When they’re almost to the bottom of the hill, something happens that literally takes my breath away.

Every time I’ve come to Krymzyn, I’ve noticed how fast people run. I’ve even thought that Sash begins to blur sometimes. I just attributed it to the atmosphere, kind of like the way words pause and translate. What happens next leaves no doubt in my mind as to what I see.

Light bursts from the Traveler and streaks in the vague shape of a human cross the meadow. The rays recede back into a human body when he stops a few feet in front of me. I didn’t even have time to blink while he covered half a mile.

Trailing slightly behind, Tela does the exact same thing. In an instant, after momentary beams of light, she’s standing beside the Traveler. I’m dumbfounded, speechless, and I stare at them with my mouth wide open.

“Chase,” Eval says to me, “I’d like to introduce you to Larn and Tela. Larn is the tallest of our Travelers, and Tela is an Apprentice in the ways of their purpose.”

They both bow to me, the man studying my face as he does.

“I met Tela when I was here before. Hi, Tela,” I babble, still stunned. “It’s nice to meet you, Larn.”

“And you as well,” Larn says to me.

“Would you and Tela please ensure that Chase reaches the northern Delta as quickly as possible?” Eval asks. “We want Chase to make the most of his time here.”

“Of course,” Larn replies. “I’m honored to provide service to our visitor.”

“Then I bid you farewell and hope your journey is educational,” Eval says.

“Thank you,” I reply quietly. My mind is still trying to comprehend what I saw.

The other Disciples bow to me, turn away, and walk down the hill with Eval.

I quickly return my attention to Larn. “How did you do that?” I ask.

“Do what?” he replies.

“Appear in front of me from across the field.”

“I traveled to you.”

“How is that accomplished is what I meant to ask.”

“I blend my light,” he says. “The principle is quite simple. As you know, our bodies consist of bonded particles of mass.”

“I guess so,” I reply. “Science was never my thing but, I did
okay
in it, so I kind of get the concept.”

“When one becomes a Traveler, we’re chosen due to our mental control over our bodies as well as our physical ability. We learn to separate the particles of mass in our containment.”

“What do you mean containment?” I ask.

Larn holds up one forearm and rubs his skin with the other hand.

“Oh, we call that
skin
,” I say.

“Then, in your terminology, we separate the particles of our
skin
. While all in Krymzyn are able to do so to a certain extent, only Travelers have the ability to spread our containment enough to fully blend our light. We first gain speed running since that motion helps us locate beams of light moving in the same direction we want to travel. Light reflects from the particles of mass inside our bodies until the reflected light blends our particles with the beams that flow through us.”

“Are you telling me you can travel at the speed of light?” I ask in disbelief.

“That would be impossible,” Larn answers. “Light slows dramatically as it passes through or is reflected by mass, depending on the transparency of the mass it makes contact with. Once our mass particles attach to the flow of energy, it slows the beams of light even more. We’re able to reach great speeds, however.”

“How do you separate the mass of your organs and bones?” I ask.

“Those particles exist separated,” he replies.

I’m completely baffled by his answer, but I don’t really want a class in Krymzyn biology. After being apart for six years, I just want as much time as possible with Sash.

“Any idea how fast you can go?” I ask.

“Whatever speed each of us can attain,” he replies, with a typical Krymzyn answer that doesn’t answer anything. “Tela has yet to master her ultimate speed but will do so soon. She must learn to carry children across the Delta and to the Mount, so may I suggest you ride on her back?”

“You’re saying she can carry me at whatever the speed you travel is? That seems physically impossible. My particles won’t separate.”

Larn unclips the flask from his belt and hands it to me. “Sap will allow your particles to separate enough to avoid any damage to you and not interfere with our speed.”

I unscrew the top of the flask, drink the contents, and return it to Larn. Just as I felt in Sash’s habitat when I was seventeen, the wave of energy from the sap is instant.

“Tela will keep enough of her mass intact for you to hold on to her,” Larn continues. “While we won’t be able to travel as fast as we did crossing the meadow, we’ll still be moving quite fast.”

“I hate to say this,” I say after glancing at Tela, “but I weigh a lot more than a child, and no offense to Tela, she doesn’t look strong enough to carry me. How about I jump on your back and Sash can ride with Tela?”

“Sash has no need to be carried,” Larn says. “She’s the one individual in Krymzyn who’s not a Traveler with the ability to fully blend her light.”

I look at Sash, who glares at me like she’s a little upset, probably because of my Tela comment. She doesn’t realize that I’m looking at her in awe because, as I’m learning, she seems to be the prodigy of all things Krymzyn.

“Why didn’t you just offer to carry me in the first place?” I ask Sash.

“It’s not my purpose,” Sash says. “Travelers aid others across the Delta. Hunters don’t usually have the ability, so I would only do so in an emergency. You said you wanted to learn about Krymzyn, so you’re learning.”

“When I was on the Tall Hill a long time ago,” I say, turning back to Larn, “I estimated that the Delta was about twenty miles in length. Is that right?”

The words “twenty” and “miles” hang in the air a few seconds but eventually translate into a distance I assume he can understand.

“Twenty-one miles, to be exact,” Larn replies.

I note that the number is, yet again, divisible by seven. “How far are we going?” I ask.

“From where we stand now to our destination, the distance is fifteen miles.”

I quickly evaluate Tela again, unable to believe that she can carry me more than twenty yards at any speed. Her face is still solemn, but there’s a hint of dejection in her eyes. I assume it’s from my negative assessment of her strength.

“Chase,” Sash says, “did the boy look strong enough in your eyes to defeat the limbs of the Tree?”

I glance at Sash and then back at Tela, realizing how deep my foot is shoved into my mouth. “I’m sorry if I offended you, Tela,” I say, smiling at her. “Let’s go for a ride.”

She hands her spear to Larn, offers her back to me, and I jump on. I weigh about a hundred and sixty-five pounds, but she doesn’t even flinch from my weight.

“Please don’t strangle me,” she complains.

She loops her arms under my legs and holds me in a classic piggyback position. I slide my hands from around her neck to under her arms and clasp them on the center of her chest.

All three break into a sprint down the hill, and I decide to count off seconds in my head. As we run faster, I see streams of white blast out of Sash, but her spear and flask remain solid. The trails of light behind her clothing are a murky mixture of white and gray. Light seeps from Tela’s skin followed by a sudden, jarring jolt of speed.

The countryside blurs by us until we’re moving faster than anything I’ve ever experienced. I actually feel a little motion sickness, but I’m too dazed by our speed to really care. At first, my skin stings from the wind slamming into to it, so I close my eyes and bury my face in Tela’s neck. Her skin feels grainy, not solid, almost like sand blowing against me on a windy day at the beach. After a few more seconds, the rushing air seems to pass through my own body, tickling my insides.

I sense our motion slowing and Tela’s skin gradually feels more solid against mine. When I open my eyes, the landscape comes into focus as we slow to a fast sprint. We all coast to a stop in a large meadow with my count ending at forty-five.

As Tela releases her hold on my legs and my feet hit the ground, I pull my arms from around her chest. I don’t think I took a breath during our entire run—or travel, I guess they call it. I quickly do the math in my head.

At fifteen miles in forty-five seconds, we covered a mile in about three seconds, which is twenty miles in a minute. That’s over twelve hundred miles per hour at our peak. Not anywhere near the speed of light, but well over the speed of sound.

“That was incredible!” I exclaim.

Tela, now slightly panting, looks at me with the usual stoic expression on her face. She gives me a slight head nod in response to my comment. Larn and Sash both breathe heavily but not even close to how I’d be sucking for air at the end of a three-mile race. Nobody has a single bead of sweat on their bodies, I guess due to the lack of temperature in Krymzyn.

“Tela, I want to show you something,” I say. I lift one of my hands high in the air, palm towards her. “Put your hand up like I’m doing.”

She raises her hand over her head. I step forward to her and slap it with mine.

“It’s called a high five,” I say.

“High five?” she asks, looking up at her hand still floating above her head. “It seems odd.”

“Five fingers,” I reply, wiggling mine, “and our hands are up high. It’s just something we do on my plane. You can put your hand down now.”

She drops it to her side, apparently not impressed.

“The customs on his plane may seem strange to us,” Sash says, “but they serve a purpose to him. I believe it’s his way of showing gratitude to you.”

“I’m honored to serve a visitor of Krymzyn,” Tela replies, bowing slightly.

“That was really amazing,” I say, turning to Larn and shaking my head. “I can’t believe what we just did.”

“Now you understand the purpose of Travelers,” he replies. “Tela and I will begin our Communal unless you’re in need of further assistance.”