Lor Mandela - Destruction from Twins (4 page)

She was almost to the descending branches
when she stopped short; a displeased scowl spread across her dark
face. “I almost forgot,” she seethed and turned back around. She
floated over to where the picture of her mother hung. “Ghandentel,
Mother!” she sneered, ripping down the portrait and hurling it
across the room. It smashed into bits against the hard stone
wall.

Without another word, she glided back across
the room and out into the dimly lit, tree-lined halls. Quietly, she
made her way through the corridors; the lower branches of the trees
swayed gently as her cloak billowed through them. After floating
down two long hallways, she came to a wide tunnel—the only part of
Trysta Palace that wasn’t tree-lined. At the end of the tunnel,
shimmering in the few glints of moonlight coming through the clear
glass ceiling above stood an ornate gold door. Anika took a deep
breath and glanced nervously around. Confident that she was alone,
she started toward the door and was within just a few feet of it
when, without warning, it swung open and Lantalia appeared in the
doorway.

“Lantalia?” she breathed restlessly, “I, uh
. . . I . . . .” she stammered.

Lantalia was surprised to see her, too.
“Anika? “What’s going on? Is everything okay? What are you doing
here?”

“What do you mean?” Anika snipped. “I can’t
even come to see my own sister?”

Lantalia eyed her suspiciously. Just seconds
before, she had a strange feeling—a sort of premonition. Something
didn’t seem right. Her new vritesse powers made her sensitive to
such things. She sensed that someone was coming to harm her; it was
disturbing indeed for her to open the door and find her own sister
standing there.

“Aren’t you going to ask me in?” Anika
pried.

“Um, yes . . . of course. Please come in,”
Lantalia responded, eyeing Anika in a way that she had never seen
before. It was a look of superiority—and of suspicion. In the few
short hours since her calling, Lantalia had already become stronger
and more in tune. “What can I do for you, Anika?”

Anika knew she’d have to be careful. She
couldn’t risk Lantalia reading her intentions. Fortunately for her,
one of the many powers she possessed was the ability to lock her
mind from outside influence. Normally, a mind block wouldn’t work
with the vritesse, but since Lantalia’s powers weren’t fully
established it was worth a try.

“I couldn’t sleep, Tali,” she explained. “I
have something to ask you.”

Lantalia’s expression softened—indicating
that the mind lock was working. “What is it?” She asked. She
glanced at the journal Anika had forgotten she was clutching in her
arms. “And what’s that?”

“Oh . . . um . . . this is?” she stuttered.
“It’s just our great-grandmother’s old journal.” She looked down at
the book and an idea popped into her head.

With a new sense of confidence in her voice,
she continued, “I was flipping through it earlier, Tali.
Grandmother wrote about receiving her powers . . . that’s what I
wanted to ask you.” She paused and smiled at her own cleverness.
“What was it like when you opened the box? I mean, it must have
been so incredible!”

Lantalia did exactly what
Anika hoped she would. She walked across the room, picked up the
small silver box, and brought it over to show her. “It
was
incredible. I can’t
describe it. It was a feeling of absolute power and control.” She
handed the diminutive box to her sister. “It isn’t much,” she
observed, “but there’s more to it than you see.”

“Especially when it contains the powers,
huh?”

“The powers are only part of it,” Lantalia
whispered. It’s alive.”

“The box?”

“Shhhhh,” she scolded. “This doesn’t leave
this room, Ani!”

Anika lowered her voice to appease her
sister. “So you’re saying that this box is a living thing?”

She was having extreme
difficulty holding on to her mind lock. Lantalia’s powers were
trying to penetrate it—and now, the opportunity of a lifetime had
just been literally handed to her.
I don’t
have to steal the box,
she thought,
I just have to clone its soul!

She turned her back to
Lantalia, and pretending to examine the box, clanked it around
loudly enough to hide a whisper. “
Elahk E
Ber silver box,” s
he breathed quietly. She
clapped her hands around the box to conceal the blue flash that
zipped out from it, as a perfect little clone appeared in her
palm.

“I would have never believed it myself,”
Lantalia continued oblivious to her sister’s doings, “but the whole
time the powers were being bestowed, it was instructing me.”

Anika tucked the replica of the silver box
into her cloak and turned back to face Lantalia. “Instructing you?
What was it saying?” she asked as she handed the real box back to
her trusting sister.

Lantalia ran her hand over the box’s lid. “I
. . . I probably shouldn’t say.”

Anika could feel her mind lock deteriorating
fast. She realized that she had to get out of there now, or
Lantalia would know everything.

“Whoa!” she groaned, slapping her hand onto
her stomach.

“What is it? Are you all right?” Lantalia
asked.

Anika fell back dramatically against the
wall. “Whew! I, um . . . I’m sorry, Tali. I don’t feel well all of
a sudden. I’d better go-oh!” She clapped her hand over her mouth,
and mumbled through her fingers, “Excuse me, Lantalia. I’ll talk to
you tomorrow!” She turned and quickly sped out the door.

“Do you need any help?” Lantalia called
after her.

“No! I . . . I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

Lantalia leaned against the door frame and
watched Anika practically sprint down the tunnel. “What was that
all about?” she questioned aloud as she stepped back into her room
and closed the door.

Meanwhile, Anika made her way out of the
palace and headed for a large hill in the distance. She couldn’t
help but laugh out loud at her amazing good fortune.

“It’s alive!” She mimicked her sister and
sniggered, “I am the stupidest vritesse ever! Here, Anika, why
don’t I just tell you everything?” She was positively giddy. She
continued until she was a safe distance from the palace, and then
stopped in a large, grassy meadow. She knelt down, pulled the
cloned box from her cloak and kissed it. “You are a beautiful
little thing, aren’t you?” She set it gently on the damp ground,
stood, and then looked skyward and shouted, “Stoi Cantara . . .
Lantalia!”

Slowly, a figure rippled up from the ground
beside her, and within seconds, a perfect replica of Lantalia, with
straight brown hair and magenta eyes stood at her right. The clone
was glassy-eyed and seemed to be devoid of emotion.

“Nolta,” she mumbled.

The clone reached its hand out toward her as
another hand materialized at the end of her left arm. The clone
took the phantom hand and pulled. Instantly, and in a flash of red,
the spirit of Anika and the clone spirit of Lantalia traded places
and Anika visibly became Lantalia. Her own soul stood glassy-eyed
and emotionless beside her.

“Wait here,” she commanded, in Lantalia’s
voice.

Her catatonic soul made an almost
indiscernible nod.

Anika picked up the little box and continued
up the hill, her dark silhouette rippling across the field. Within
just a few minutes, she had reached the top where she paused for a
moment to stare out at the intimidating landscape that stretched
before her on the other side.

It was steep, and the trail was long,
narrow, and seemed to lead down into an endless pit.

Anika’s eyes glowed, lighting everything in
front of her with a focused beam of intense pink. She drew in a
deep breath and started in a run toward the trail. “The Caverns!”
she shouted loudly.

Just as she was about to run right off the
edge of the trail, there was a faint pop, and she vanished into
thin air.

When she rematerialized, she was standing at
the entrance to a massive black cave. She glanced back just to make
sure that no one was around, and then scanned the cave with her
glowing eyes.

Upon sufficient confirmation that she was
alone, she proceeded cautiously into the cave, where the need for
the additional light suddenly ceased. The Caverns at Koria were
brightly lit and absolutely exquisite.

Throughout Lor Mandela it was common
knowledge that the Caverns were among the most glorious places in
existence. Huge, glowing, pastel-colored rock formations hung down
from the high, glistening, crystal-encrusted ceilings; the
vibrations of the planet bounced from formation to formation
resonating in soft harmonious hums. Despite their location, far
below the surface, the Caverns were well illuminated by a warm
silvery glow, originating from an unknown source.

Although they were beautiful, the Caverns
were also deadly. Inside, steep, sharply-winding paths bordered
jagged cliffs—the walls of which were miles high. Over the years,
even the tiniest errors in judgment had caused many to fall to
their early deaths.

Anika didn’t pause to take in the view,
though. Tonight, she was on a mission. She nimbly maneuvered up the
path until she reached a huge rock that jutted out over the cliffs
like a giant platform. She stepped out onto it, held the cloned box
in front of her and shouted skyward, “I am Lantalia, daughter of
Satia, and Vritesse of Lor Mandela! Soul of Lor Mandela, grant me
renewal! The balance of all powers from the beginning until the
end!” A pillar of white light shot up through the center of the
Caverns and bulleted toward Anika. It whirred and spattered and
wrapped its way around her, completely enveloping her.

In the light, Anika heard a faint voice. It
surged in and out. “Lantalia . . . Vritesse . . . you’ve only just
received these powers. How is it that they are in need of
renewal?”

Anika had anticipated that this might happen
and had an answer prepared. “Wise spirit, my mother was very ill at
her final renewal. I believe she was not able to fully gather all
that you bestowed.”

There was a pause before the voice answered.
“Lantalia, Vritesse of the Trysta people, be ren . . . .”

Suddenly, the glowing
white pillar lost its form. Violent shards of light shot through
the air ricocheting off of the walls and rock formations. The voice
boomed, “I am the soul of Lor Mandela! Lantalia . . . Vritesse . .
.
twin!
”

Anika’s stomach lurched. She had been
discovered—or so it seemed.

The light bounced wildly throughout the
Caverns but then, much to Anika’s relief, it slowly gathered back
into a straight column and the calm, rhythmic whir returned.

The voice spoke again, much more serenely
than before, and the pillar of light shrank away. “Take your
renewed powers, Vritesse . . . and go.”

Anika felt strange. She tried to take a step
backward but teetered awkwardly and collapsed, unconscious, into a
heap on the rock platform; the hand holding the little silver box
precariously flopped out over the edge.

It was several hours before she regained
consciousness. She moaned softly, glanced around, and realized that
the box was teetering near the end of her fingertips. She gasped
and pulled it quickly toward her, hoping that nothing had escaped.
A tiny sliver of white light peeked out from around the lid
indicating that the powers were still inside. Anika sighed and rose
groggily to her feet.

“That was more, um . . . physically
demanding than anticipated,” she breathed, as she dragged herself
back down the path.

Upon exiting the Caverns, she realized that
the sun was already rising. She would need to get back her own soul
before it was discovered. She headed off at a furious pace. “Koria
field!” she yelled skyward and was instantly transported back to
the field on the opposite side of where she’d left her spirit.

The unresponsive soul was still standing
across the meadow like a statue; luckily, no one was in sight.

She sprinted toward it and shouted,
“Nolta!”

In response, her soul zipped toward her and
dove aggressively into her, knocking her to the ground. Right when
they hit, the cloned spirit of Lantalia burst out of her back and
fell to the earth.

Anika looked like herself again except now
there was no mistaking it. Her skin was very, very dark. “Strange,”
she mumbled as she rose to her feet and brushed herself off. She
started off toward Trysta Palace, staring at her hands and arms as
she went. She hadn’t gone far when she remembered that her sister’s
cloned soul was still lying in the field behind her. She sniggered
as she contemplated leaving it there for someone to find. “Erun
cantara . . . Lantalia!” she commanded.

The spirit clone rippled and distorted. It
wiggled around a bit, and then dissolved slowly into the ground and
disappeared.

Anika glanced over her
hands again and shook her head. “
Very
strange,” she muttered, as she
sped off again toward home.

Once she was safely back inside her room she
wasted no time. She was very anxious to set her plan in motion. She
lifted a small stick-like object from a bedside table and spoke
into the end of it.

“Send for General Kort, immediately,” she
ordered.

A few minutes later, he was outside her door
calling her name.

She rushed over and pulled him in, right
through the branches that were still descending.

“Ouch! Anika,” Kort exclaimed, brushing the
pine needles from his shirt. “What’s so urgent?” He picked a stray
needle from his auburn curls and glanced at Anika, who was even
darker than before. A look of concern spread across his rugged
face. “Have you figured out what’s causing this darkening yet? Is
it because of the spirit cloning?” he asked, staring.