Reborn (7 page)

“We’re perfectly aware of who this is, old man,” growled Zhou in a low, gurgling rumble. He sank low to the ground like some kind of beast as wiry brown hair grew up from his slowly enlarging ears. A reddish glow sparkled within his suddenly slitted eyes. Both Kelus and Aki began to back away as the beastly transformation took place.

“Don’t worry about Mother,” hissed Morita, her long forked tongue flapping around like some sort of snake. “We’ll be sure to take care of her as well.” Gleaming yellow eyes beamed with the promise of prolonged pain.

“What sort of black magic is this? Who are you two?” hissed Aki. “What have you done with my wife? Where is she?” A flash of golden light illuminated the room, leaving a glowing hole floating in mid-air. The dark outline of a man appeared through the shimmering light before stepping into the room. He was young and very tall, wearing a gleaming white robe that hung loosely. When he reached up to pull back his hood, drooping sleeves revealed large muscular arms, every inch completely covered in black tattoos of various ancient designs. His eyes glimmered with a golden light as his booming laughter shook the room.

“Fear not, Aki,” he said, as golden light shimmered from his mouth with each word. “I’ve made a business proposal to your children, one they simply couldn’t refuse.” His booming laughter filled the room once more.

Kelus exploded toward the being as glimmering silver flashed in each hand, but with a simple snap of his fingers, the white-robed man sent him flying backward. An unseen force smashed the small man through the wall behind, driving all the air from his lungs. He crumpled down to the floor like an old mat, broken and writhing in pain. With half-conscious ears, he heard the words, “Your rule has come to an end, Aki. I trust you will enjoy your new life.” Kelus fought hard to stay conscious, but his broken body finally gave in to the darkness.

“When I finally awoke, I found myself laying in a field outside the great structure. I don’t know how I got there or why I was spared, but I’m grateful for it every day.” Kelus shivered again after reliving the dark memory for the thousandth time. “Everyone believes that the family was cursed. The truth is, those two children made a deal with the devil. He turned them into demons.”

Eric’s eyes were wide as coins. “Did you ever find out what became of your friend? Or even of that white-robed man, who or what it was?”

Kelus looked Eric squarely in the eye. “There are mentions of such a being all throughout our history. Ancient scrolls, forgotten by all but a few, speak of him. They say he is here to help us...to save us all.” He stepped even closer to Eric. “I am one of the few who has seen his face and lived to tell about it. I’ve seen his power with my own eyes.” He shook his head, as if having trouble believing it himself. “His powers are a mirror image to yours.” Eric’s expression never changed, his face unreadable. “I know he still lives because stories of his heinous acts still surface throughout the realm. Death follows him wherever he goes, and few witnesses live to tell of his deeds. It seems the one sent to save us all has other ideas. Do you now understand my people’s anger; why they want you dead?”

Eric stared off into the distance. He nodded his head in understanding before whispering to the wind, “I understand now. They think he is me.”

Chapter 4

Athel followed Nima and Amoshi down the dirt path, lagging behind and dragging her feet while the other two held the lead. They hardly noticed that she was falling back, as their heated argument continued back and forth. With Athel’s sharp hearing, she could have easily listened in had she wanted to, but simply had no interest. Consumed by her own thoughts, she moved along lethargically, not even caring where they going.

Locals wearing brown work tunics and light furs whispered and pointed as she passed by. Small children watched curiously before being snatched up by their mothers, then hurried back inside. Her sharp hearing felt like a curse as whispers of “demon” and “black magic” assaulted her ears from every direction, despite her best efforts to ignore the accusations.
How can I blame them? They can see me for the monster I am
.

Distracted by the hateful comments, Athel almost walked right into Nima, not realizing the other two had stopped. She followed their gaze up to an old-looking shack just across the road. Wavy streams of light-gray smoke filtered up from the white stone chimney. Although the rickety building looked as though a stiff breeze could easily bring down, it was still rather large compared to the surrounding structures. They crossed over and stood before the darkened entrance covered by long stands of colored beads.

Nima glanced back to Athel and whispered, “Keep your head down and don’t look them in the eye. Just remain silent while I—”

“While you what?” growled Amoshi under his breath. “You will listen to every word they have to say, then do whatever it is they want you to do. Despite your standing amongst the rest of the clan, you know full well you pull no rank here. Even Kelus has minimal authority within these walls.”

Nima looked away, as the stinging truth of his words wounded her pride. She held no rank here, and would only have a negligible amount of influence.

“Have you done as instructed?” came a hissing voice from the darkness. The sudden chills skittered down her spine quickly reinforced his point. “Bring her to us.” Amoshi flashed Nima an irritated look before swiping back the curtain of beads.

They entered cautiously, with Athel coming in last. She glanced around the dimly lit room. It looked to be even larger than she expected, mostly due to the lack of furniture. Her eyes fell on a group of three sitting cross-legged on the floor with their hands on their knees, palms facing up. The woman seated in the middle drew her attention first. The green-eyed old lady had long, white hair held back with a silver headband, and was covered in gaudy jewelry, mostly gold with a bit of silver. The multiple thick necklaces and bracelets looked to be cumbersome and heavy, although she showed no signs of discomfort. Her red dress with a green top hung loosely around her thin frame.

The old men to either side looked to be exact duplicates of each other, both frail-looking men with the same bald heads and large, brown eyes. In a sharp contrast to the woman, they each wore matching brown tunics that were drab, thin, and worn with age. Unlike the old woman’s flashy jewelry, they each wore a single bronze hoop in each ear. In a rather creepy action, they twins tipped their heads to the side, nearly touching their shoulders. They each flashed a toothless grin, then moved the heads back up again, their necks cracking at the same time. Athel couldn’t help but shiver at the eerie sight. Remembering her instructions, she lowered her gaze down to the brown fur rug, trying her best to appear meek and harmless. A second glance down revealed that the brown throw rug was not only bear fur, but a good portion of the bear as well. The large head was still attached, and its long, white teeth spanned out in a permanent grin.

Drawings on tan-colored canvas hung around the dark, stained walls. All of them were scribbled in black, no doubt painted with some sort of charred stick or possibly coal. Crude and lacking detail, they still held a sort of primal beauty. Wolves, lions and other familiar animals stared out from within their canvas prisons, proof that these common animals must be native here as well. The canvas borders were wavy and misshapen, none a square or even circular.

A tin tripod with glowing embers strewn across its base lay at the center of the room. It harnessed a small black pot with thick, purple liquid. The blubbery substance rolled about with large, dark bubbles, each one inflating to the size of a fist before bursting in a thin puff of steam. A light, flowery scent seeped into the air with each gurgling belch.

“Do you know who we are, girl?” said the old woman inquired.

Athel raised her head a bit, still careful not to look at them directly. “No,” she whispered. “I only hope you can somehow help me.”

“Help you. Help you,” echoed the two old men, speaking in unison as they clicked their heads to the side, then back again. Chills assaulted Athel’s spine once more.

The old lady leaned forward, stretching her fingers outward with a series of pops and cracks. “I am Wara,” she placed her hands on her chest, “and this is Kikuro,” she said, spreading her hands out to her sides. “We are known as ‘the circle.’” Athel was not sure if the two men had the same name, or were somehow the same person. “Let me make this clear to you. The only ones we intend to help are our own people. What ultimately happens to you is of little interest to us.”

“If I may,” said Nima in a voice so weak, it didn’t even sound like her. “I must remind the circle that Athel played an intricate role in the defense of—”

“You may not. You may not,” hissed the twins, heads clicking down, then up.

“Do not interrupt us again,” the old woman commanded. Her voice was calm and steady, but Nima flinched, then drew in on herself, as if the woman had suddenly breathed fire. “Now then,” the old woman’s gaze fell back on Athel, “we’re told you are the one carrying the curse of the seed.” She motioned for Athel to come closer. After a reluctant glance toward Nima, the Dronin warrior moved up closer to the old woman. Wara reached out and lightly cupped Athel’s chin in her thin, gnarled hand, then rolled her face back and forth, looking on with wide-eyed curiosity. “Fascinating,” she muttered. “Do you know how long it’s been since any have seen one of your kind?”

“So there really are others?” said Athel with a hint of hope in her eyes, but the short-lived glimmer faded instantly.

“None that we’re aware of, and it’s simply been too long to reasonably believe others will simply show up.” The old hag squinted her eyes at Athel. “This is not a bad thing either. Beast masters are unpredictable at best.”

“But that man who attacked the village. He was the same as—”

“Not exactly, dear,” said Nima, boldly breaking back into the conversation. “He is something different altogether; magical, in fact. He strength was not born from the seed, like yours. It was...given.”

“Not another word,” hissed the old woman. “You’ve said quite enough already. Now go, both of you. Get out of our sight.” Nima and Amoshi nodded quickly, then scampered out through the beaded curtain. They didn’t seem to mind being told to leave, and were possibly even a bit relieved. “Now then, this is not a matter of whether or not you have the seed. Clearly you do, but do you actually believe you’ve learned to control it? That you’re really not a danger to your friends, or anyone else, for that matter?”

Athel leaped back, her dark eyes ablaze. “I am Athel Thenalra, daughter of Corzon Thenalra, lord and commander of the city of Dronin. My bloodlines run deep, and my will is stone. I swear on my family name that no curse, witchcraft, or ‘seed,’ as you call it, will ever weaken my resolve. Whatever this bane is, it has no power over me.”

“Your feeble titles from a far-off land, rooted in an even more distant life, mean nothing here, girl. You’re actually naive enough to believe your exaggerated claims of strength and power carry weight anywhere in this land, yet alone within these walls?”

Athel felt stupid as the sting of truth drove itself through her chest. What was she thinking? Of course her former title meant nothing here. Her old life seemed so far away, it was now becoming difficult to remember. “True enough,” Athel admitted at length. “You know nothing about me or where I’m from, but just as I am a stranger in these lands, you have not yet earned my trust either. Why should I concern myself with any of you? Perhaps your words carry authority here, but your ancient witchcraft means nothing to me.”

“Enough,” echoed the old men, their heads clicking down, then up. In a smooth motion, they raised their hands out toward Athel. Blinding pain radiated through her body as their palms glowed a reddish orange. Her arms and legs spread out wide as her body levitated upward, now floating in midair while agonizing pain coursed through every inch of her body. It was so great, her jaw clamped down tightly, making it impossible to scream.

The old woman stood up, then casually walked over to the trembling girl. “In ages past, mutants such as yourself were executed without question. Keeping them alive was far too dangerous. I see you’re naive enough to think you’ve actually conquered this affliction all by yourself. You’re arrogant enough to believe it will never consume your mind as it has all the others before you. You’ve resisted it once, and I commend you for doing what most can’t, but I assure you, the episodes won’t get any easier from here. Sooner or later, your mind will break. Sooner or later, you will attempt to kill the ones you love, no matter what you believe about your own feeble willpower.”

The twins closed their hands, abruptly cutting off the orange light. Athel crumpled to the ground in a heap. After a time, she managed roll onto her stomach, panting rapidly as tears streamed down her cheeks—tears that had nothing to do with the white-hot pain that was now gone, but the heartbreaking news of what would become of her. Her initial resistance had only been a minor victory. How long could she possibly fend off this curse? Even if she could resist for years, eventually that inevitable day would come when...

“But I’ve beaten it already,” said Athel, hugging her knees to her chest while rocking back and forth. “It’s not fair. Why me? Please, tell me there are others who beat it. They couldn’t all have given in to this curse. Surely someone has resisted.”

For the first time, a sad, almost motherly look came over the old woman’s eyes. “Even we don’t have that knowledge. Only beings of the spirit world could answer such a question. Your condition is so rare, there isn’t enough information written on the subject. Which brings me to why you are here.”