Krymzyn (The Journals of Krymzyn Book 1) (13 page)

“Awaken,” I whisper.

Gold points of light spread through the crystal spikes overhead. I focus on the tiny creatures slowly twirling inside the clear ceiling, wondering how they know to react to only two words.

“Peace,” I whisper, and the Swirls fade to black.

Sash lies on her side facing me, her head resting on the pillow with a limp arm draped over my chest. I lie flat on my back, one arm nestled between her neck and the pillow. Her breath, steady and light in slumber, caresses my cheek as I stare straight up.

“Awaken,” I whisper again, kindling the golden sparks in the ceiling.

“Why don’t you sleep?” Sash drowsily asks.

“I don’t know,” I say. “I keep thinking about everything that’s happened to me in Krymzyn. None of it makes sense.”

“No, it doesn’t,” she replies.

“Eval told me she’s not even sure if my purpose here is telling. The Disciples don’t even need a Teller from my plane. They’ve already had one.”

“Maybe you were never meant to be a Teller.”

I turn my face to hers. “Then what am I, Sash? Why am I here?”

“I think you have to answer those questions.”

“The only answers I have right now are that I love you and I can’t stop seeing you again.”

“I feel empty when you leave,” she says.

“How would you feel if I stayed in Krymzyn all the time?” I ask hypothetically.

Sash takes my hand in hers before she answers. “When we sat on the Tall Hill long ago and you left, you took a part of me with you. I only feel whole again when you’re here. I feel complete with you, Chase. I want us to be together always. But I would never ask that of you.”

The emotions she expresses are an exact replication of everything I felt after I left her when I was seventeen, and feel with her beside me now. The message contained in her final sentence suddenly hits me.

“There’s a way I can stay here, isn’t there?” I ask.

“There’s a way,” she answers.

“What is it?”

“Chase, what if you stay here and I die?” she asks, almost pleading. “What if I’m killed by a Murkovin? Would you still want to be here if I met death? If you stay here, you can’t ever return to your world.”

“If it meant never having to leave you again, I’d be thankful for whatever time we have together.”

“I don’t want be the cause of you feeling like you made a mistake,” she says firmly. “I care too much for you.”

I sit upright and look down at her face. “I might die in my world, Sash. There’s a much better chance of this tumor killing me than there is of my living. I’ve seen death firsthand, just like you. It doesn’t scare me. I feel like my life is here with you. But if you die for some reason, I’ll still be content living in Krymzyn.”

Her facial expression never changes while she studies my eyes. “Would you be willing to risk your life to stay here?” she finally asks.

“I think I proved that a little while ago.”

She nods her head thoughtfully but doesn’t say anything.

“There’s something I can take in my world,”
I explain to her silence, “that stops me from coming. I took it when we were younger, after the first time we met. It made me stop coming to Krymzyn until they removed the tumor from my head. I keep coming here because I want to, because I want to be with you. But if I die in my world, I won’t ever come back. If I’m healed, I won’t ever come back. The only way we can be together is if I stay here.”

Sash slowly sits up, pulls her knees to her chest, and wraps her arms around her legs. “When we’re children,” she says, “the Disciples tell us the story of the second plane. Krymzyn was the first plane created at The Beginning, existing before all else.

“During a period of Darkness, a brilliant light appeared in each of the four primary directions of the Infinite Expanse. A new plane of existence rose from the light—the second plane—but it traveled to a dimension outside of Krymzyn.

“The first Teller to ever come to Krymzyn visited from the second plane. His world, the Teller told the Disciples, consisted of four distinct quadrants, each vastly different than the other. Only one inhabitant lived in each quadrant. Those inhabitants were called North, South, East, and West.

“The Teller who came to Krymzyn, North, told the Disciples that each of those who dwelled on his plane possessed great physical power, mental awareness, and immortality if physically unharmed. But they each had a unique philosophy regarding how their plane should be shared.

“North wished to rule the other three, believing his intellect and strength were superior. East wanted each to share their quadrant openly with the other three, dwelling in harmony. South wanted each to ignore the other three and live isolated in their own quadrants. West desired each to exchange items from their quadrant for items from the other three.

“North, believing he was superior to all who existed, wanted Krymzyn to serve him when he visited this plane. The seven Disciples of that Era refused his demands. North was infuriated and tried to kill the Disciples. Due to North’s tremendous power, it required all of Krymzyn to destroy him.

“Several Darknesses passed before a new Teller arrived in Krymzyn, South, from the same plane as North. He told the Disciples of an event he and the others on his plane couldn’t understand. North had ceased to exist. The Disciples knew the only possible cause of North’s death on the second plane was his death in Krymzyn.”

“So if I die here,” I ask, “I die on my plane?”

“Yes. You’ll be dead on your plane,” Sash says. “The Teller South told the Disciples, after East and West realized North was dead, that East and West reached a compromise to share their plane without South. They attacked South, who then went into hiding in his quadrant. While in hiding, South returned to Krymzyn.

“Darkness never fell while South was here, so sap never flowed in the sustaining trees. Time passed, people grew taller, and the supply of sap was almost depleted.

“The Disciples traveled to the Mount of Krymzyn to look into the Reflecting Pool. Questions are often answered for us in the Pool. When they asked why South remained in Krymzyn, they were shown his death on his plane. East and West had found South while he slept in his hiding place and killed him. They learned that when he died in his world, because he was in Krymzyn when it occurred, he continued to live in Krymzyn.”

“What happened to South?” I ask.

“When the Disciples returned from the Mount, golden light appeared in South’s hands, giving him the sign for the Ritual of Purpose. He faced the Tree of Vision to determine if he had a purpose here.”

“And did he?” I ask.

“No,” Sash says, holding my eyes. “The Tree killed him. After his death, Darkness immediately fell, providing sap for the people.”

“So I could have my own Ritual of Purpose?”

“If you’re given the sign,” Sash says.

“How do I get the sign?”

“If the Disciples approve, Krymzyn will give it to you if it’s what you truly want. But if you don’t have a purpose here, Chase, you’ll meet death from the Tree.”

“I understand that,” I say. “Darkness never fell when South was here. It’s like Krymzyn didn’t want him here. I’ve been here three times during Darkness.”

“That doesn’t mean you have a purpose here,” she says.

“There’s only one way to find out,” I reply. “Let’s go see the Disciples.”

We quickly dress, and since it’s only two miles or so to Sanctuary from her habitat, Sash and I run there beside each other. We reach the top of a hill overlooking the Tree of Vision, the same hill we stood on to watch Cavu’s ritual. Eval and Tork sit on the edge of the meadow, branches gently waving in the air over their heads. When Sash and I walk down the hill, the two Disciples notice us and both stand.

“Tork has informed me of your encounter with the Murkovin,” Eval says to me when we reach them. She drops to one knee and bows her head. “You’ve shown great honor by risking your own safety to protect Krymzyn. For that, we are grateful.”

“I’ll do anything to protect Krymzyn,” I say, quickly bouncing off one knee.

Eval stands. “I believe you mean that, and in more ways than you may know.”

“Have you discovered how the Murkovin entered the Delta?” Sash asks Eval, obvious anger in her voice. It’s not anger directed towards Eval—just that Murkovin were anywhere near the trees that are so precious to her.

“We haven’t yet,” Eval says to Sash. “They must have found a way to cross the river at some place the Watchers can’t see.”

Sash looks away in thought.

“Maybe they swam across the river,” I say.

“Only Serquatine swim in Krymzyn,” Eval replies. “The river belongs to them. Neither Murkovin nor those in the grace of Krymzyn ever enter the water.”

“What are Serquatine?” I ask.

“Creatures who dwell at the source of the river,” Eval says. “They’re Guardians of the Infinite Expanse.”

Although intrigued by her answer, I worry that I might return to Earth at any time and want to get to my questions. “May I ask you a few things?”

“Of course,” Eval replies. “We’re always honored to share our ways with you.”

“When I’m here, almost no time passes on my plane, regardless of how long I’m in Krymzyn. But we all seem to age the same when I’m not here, like the same amount of time passes in my world and Krymzyn. How can that be?”

“When Krymzyn brings a Teller here,” Eval answers, “time is suspended for them on their plane. Only moments pass in your world, but Krymzyn keeps a Teller here for as long as is needed for us to learn of balance on their plane. It would be unfair to deprive a Teller of time in their world, and as I told you before, Tellers are typically asleep or in a state of meditation when they depart their world. When you’re not here, the amount of time that passes on all planes, although methods of measurement may be different, is the same.”

“So Krymzyn can just alter time in my world?” I ask.

“Krymzyn created time, so it can manipulate it as it chooses.”

I have to let that sink in for a few seconds before deciding that it makes enough sense to move on to questions that are more important to me. “What exactly is sap?” I ask, looking back and forth between Eval and Tork.

“That which sustains us,” Eval replies.

“I’d like a more detailed answer, please,” I say.

Eval and I maintain eye contact, neither of us blinking or looking away. She seems to be prying into my mind, attempting to assess where this conversation is going.

“Sap is energy,” she finally says, the word “energy” taking a long time to translate. “Energy in its purest form. Without sap, nothing exists.”

I actually scratch the back of my head in a cliché reaction, not sure I grasp her meaning. “What do you mean ‘nothing’?”

“The word means what the word means,” Eval says sternly.

“You mean nothing in Krymzyn?”

“I mean nothing,” Eval says, “anywhere. Sap is energy that allows all other forms of energy to exist.”

I nod, slowly accepting her answer, and phrasing my next statement in my mind. “I have something in my world called a
tumor
,” I say, noticing that when I talk to someone other than Sash, certain words don’t translate again. “It grows on my brain and will probably kill me soon. If I’m wounded in Krymzyn, sap heals me and the wounds aren’t there when I go back to Earth. While I’m in Krymzyn, I don’t feel any of the effects of my
tumor
. As soon as I’m back on Earth, I feel them again.”

“Sap has great healing power,” Eval replies. “It can’t return you from death, but as long your brain is functioning, sap will revive your body. It’s far too powerful to exist on any other plane where perfect balance isn’t a constant, so its effects are only evident on this plane.”

“So when I drink sap, it has no effect on me anywhere but here?” I ask.

“You’ll only feel the effects of sap while in Krymzyn, and any injuries from your plane won’t travel here with you.”

“But if I die in my world while I’m in Krymzyn, I’ll still live here, won’t I?” I ask.

Eval glances at Sash then returns her eyes to me. “Sash must have told you the story of the Teller South,” she says.

“She did,” I reply.

“As was the case with South, you’ll still be alive in Krymzyn if you’re here when you meet death on your plane.”

I slowly look up to the sky, to the motionless gray clouds and stunning beams of light. I feel more aware here, more alive, than I’ve ever felt on Earth. When I’m with Sash, the part of me that I always felt was missing in my world is suddenly found. Maybe fate isn’t executing a vicious practical joke on me. Maybe I’m being given an opportunity to live in the way I was meant to.

I’ll miss my family more than I can even imagine, and I know I’ll feel terrible loneliness at times without their love and support in my life. I doubt I can replace my close friends, especially Connor, with anyone in Krymzyn. And I don’t want to hurt the people I care about.

But if I go out the way Davis did, none of that will matter anyway, and the suffering of people I love will be prolonged. My one chance to be with Sash, to feel complete, is in front of me now. The people who truly care about me would want me to seize that opportunity.

Every event in my life since I was twelve has brought me to this moment. Everything that’s happened to me, that I’ve experienced, has evolved in a way to help me freely make the decision I’m about to make. I lower my face from the sky and stare directly into Eval’s eyes.

“I want to live in Krymzyn,” I say calmly. “I want to find out if I have a purpose here.”

“Why do you want this?” Eval asks.

I quickly try to construct some Krymzyn response in my head full of words like balance, honor, and gratitude. Instead, I say exactly what I feel inside.

“I belong with Sash. If I belong with Sash, then I must belong in Krymzyn.”

“Do you fear your own death on your plane?” Eval asks softly. “Is that the reason you want to stay here? Just to save your own life?”

“My
tumor
will probably kill me in my world, but it might not,” I reply. “Either way, I won’t return to Krymzyn. If I’m healed, I’ll have to live the rest of my life on Earth wondering what might have been. I think that would be worse than death.”

I see the strangest thing I’ve ever seen in Krymzyn—and I’ve seen more than my share of strange things. The corners of Eval’s lips curl up slightly into an approving smile.

“You’ve gained an understanding of balance,” Eval says. Her expression returns to stoic when she turns to Sash. “How do you respond to the statement by Chase?”

“I belong with Chase,” Sash says, her voice rich with passion.

For the second time I’ve noticed—the first was when I was seventeen—Sash and Eval share an unspoken communication for several seconds. Eval finally breaks their gaze and looks at me.

“I don’t believe,” Eval says, “that you were ever meant to be a Teller. But to dwell permanently on this plane, you must have a purpose in Krymzyn. If you enter the Ritual of Purpose and have none, you’ll meet death here and on your plane.”

“I understand. I don’t think I was meant to be a Teller either, so I must have another purpose here. I hope so anyway, but I’ll take that chance.”

Eval’s eyes glaze over for a moment in faraway thought, like she’s remembering something from long ago. She refocuses on the present when she speaks. “Prior to a child of Krymzyn reaching the height of purpose, they each stand in the Reflecting Pool inside the Mount. Questions are answered for them as they look into the waters of the Pool, questions they may not even know exist. I would suggest, prior to making your final decision, you travel to the Mount and visit the Pool. If, after doing so, you still wish to seek a purpose, then you may ask Krymzyn for the sign.”

“Whatever I have to do, I’ll do.”

“Upon your next arrival, a Traveler will take you to the Mount.” Eval’s eyes move to Sash. “Since you and Chase are in this journey together, you’ll also accompany Chase to the Mount. You should be with him when he looks in the Pool.”

Sash tilts her head down to the ground and a sudden, unmistakable look of sadness washes over her face. I can’t figure out why she’s reacting this way.

“I will,” Sash quietly replies, her eyes never leaving the grass.

I feel dizzy and stagger when all of my muscles clench at once. Sash steps to me, reaching a hand out as I fall backwards.

*             *             *

I fell hard onto the wooden bench. The seizure convulsions must have been powerful enough to lift me out of my seat. When the shaking ended, I tried to relax my muscles and looked around the empty courtyard.

Why had the talk of the Reflecting Pool upset Sash so much? The more I thought about it, the more I couldn’t understand why her expression had changed so dramatically.

I rubbed my temples and sat quietly on the bench. I’d made my decision and it was final. Sitting for an hour in the courtyard, I planned the steps I’d have to take on Earth to turn that decision into reality.