The Guardian of Threshold (21 page)

BOOK: The Guardian of Threshold
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By the time I reached the corner, I was exhausted. Once I was out of the Forgemaster’s sight, I placed the heavy cage on the floor and sat down to catch my breath.

“Tired already?” asked Carla from behind me, scaring me.

“Very funny, you got the small one,” I said, pointing at her cage.

“I guess you’re not as good-looking as I am,” said Carla.

“It’s about time we finally made some progress,” I added, stretching my arms and legs.

“Yes, hopefully Jonas will be there,” replied Carla.

“I hope so because I can’t take this smell for too much longer,” I said, smelling my own armpits. “Since the smell is not coming from me, it has to be coming from this stupid armor.”

“At least that’s what you think,” said Carla.

“Anyway, what is this thing made of? It’s itchy as hell,” I complained.

“If I had to guess, I would say animal hide. Come on, let’s go,” said Carla, offering me a hand.

I threw the heavy metal chains over my sore shoulders and, after a gasp of pain, started to drag it along.

After walking for a while, the torches once again started to grow far and few between. It wasn’t much longer before we reached a huge clearing that smelled far worse than I did.

I almost got sick as we entered what could only be the prisoners’ chambers.

“Jonas? Are you here?” whispered Carla as we both looked around, perplexed by the sheer size of the place and the deplorable conditions within.

Some of the creatures appeared to be eating their own skin, while others picked at the putrid skin of their cellmates.

We must have walked almost to the end of the chamber looking for Jonas. The creatures in the cages looked like the creatures from the village… that, is until we reached a chamber with a decaying sign that read “UNDEAD HALL” above the entrance.

“Here, he’s got to be in there somewhere,” I said, pointing at the sign.

“I hope so,” replied Carla.

“Jonas!” Carla said a bit too loud.

“I’m here!” came a faint reply from somewhere in the chamber.

“Jonas? Is that really you?” cried Carla, almost in tears. “Quick, I think it’s coming from there.”

“Jonas, where are you?” asked Carla again as we walked through a maze of cages; some were on the floor while others were suspended in the air.

“I’m in here!” replied Jonas, sounding louder.

We took two sharp left turns and followed the trail. I could swear that some of the people in the cages looked dead, but they weren’t. They were humans, although barely recognizable. One thing I was sure of, they certainly weren’t treated as human. I’d seen homeless people who looked better cared for. Most just laid in their cages, some still bleeding from what I assumed were their mortal wounds. They laid there as though they didn’t have the strength or the will to stand up.

“Oh my God, why are all those people in cages?” asked Carla, crying.

“I’m not sure. They look sick and tortured,” I replied, trying to be strong.

Never in my entire life did I think I would find people in these conditions. They didn’t have any water or food, not a bathroom in sight.

Although it was freezing outside, inside the heat was almost unbearable. At first, I rather enjoyed the warming sensation, but soon I realized it wasn’t a blessing, it was a curse.

When I heard Carla’s loud gasp, I quickly made my way to her.

“Oh my God, Jonas, what have they done to you?” asked Carla from a few yards away.

***

I found Jonas covered in dry mud and still in his pajamas, which were muddy.

“Are you all right?” I asked, glad to see him but worried about his well-being.

“That depends on your definition of all right. But I’m happy to see you guys,” replied Jonas.

“What happened to you?” asked Carla.

“I’ll gladly tell you guys all about it. Just as soon as you get me out of here and we leave this hell hole behind.”

Unfortunately, the cage was locked with a rusty, old padlock.

“Where do they keep the key?” I asked.

“I dunno, some short dude carrying a hammer put me in this cage, but I have only seen him a couple times.”

“That’s got to be the—”

“The Forgemaster,” Carla said. “I’ll get the key from him and be back for you soon, little brother.”

“I’m not little!” complained Jonas, although I didn’t think Carla heard him because she had taken off running toward the forge.

“I better go with her to make sure she doesn’t get into trouble,” I said. I looked him right in the eyes and let him know I was going to be back for him. That no matter what happened, he could count on me to protect his sister and free him, even though I was the person who got them involved in this mess in the first place.

I turned to find Carla, but it was too late. She wasn’t around anymore. I was worried about what she would do to get that key from the Forgemaster. Her determination was a virtue, but I could remember more than one instance where it got her into some serious trouble.

I walked briskly after Carla, but I didn’t run. After all, I didn’t want to arrive at the Forgemaster at the same time as Carla. Besides, I wasn’t even sure if she would need my help at all. Not to mention that if the Forgemaster saw me again, there was a good chance he would give me some other random job, and I couldn’t let that happen.

I carefully approached the entrance to the forge and found a dark crevasse where I could hide and listen undetected.

“Forgemaster, we have a problem,” said Carla, looking worried. For a minute, I thought that she forgot her acting skills, but then I realized her plan.

“What is it? I don’t like problems, smash-pie. Are you going to be a problem?” he asked.

“No, I just wanted to let you know that one of the prisoners tried to break his lock.”

“I don’t have time for this. Deal with it, or I’ll deal with you,” he threatened.

“Sure, I’ll punish the little maggot so he learns his lesson. But I’ll need the key so I can give him a beating that he’ll never forget,” said Carla, all gutsy and ruthless.

“Here, and take this lock too in case you need to replace the old one,” the Forgemaster replied, tossing another padlock and a bunch of keys toward her.

“Thanks,” she said as she turned around and headed out.

“Smash-pie!” he said.

“Yes?”

“Keep this up and you may have a future. Just remember, don’t be a problem,” he warned.

Carla continued walking away, looking relieved. And to be honest, so was I.

I followed her until she had turned a couple of corners, then I caught up to her.

“So, how did I do?” asked Carla when she saw me approaching.

“Not too bad,” I responded.

“And you said theater club was a waste of time,” she laughed.

“I admit that I may have been wrong about that. I’m glad it was good for something,” I confessed. “Let’s hurry before we attract too much attention or worse,” I said.

We rushed back toward the prisoners’ chambers.

As we entered the deplorable chambers, the fetid smell assaulted my senses again, nearly knocking me out. Our vision wasn’t the only sense that was enhanced in the astral realm; all of our other senses, including smell, were extra sharp as well.

“How are we going to get out of here?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I haven’t thought that far ahead yet,” replied Carla, zigzagging through the prisoners’ cages and trying her best not to pay too much attention to the other prisoners. I suspected we both knew it was too late for the others, because even if we freed them, it was very unlikely they would have the necessary energy and strength to escape. Most couldn’t even get up. Some didn’t seem to have the will to blink.

CHAPTER TEN

FRIENDS IN WEIRD PLACES

A
s I approached Jonas’s cage, I heard a soft giggling sound, followed by childlike laughter.

Carla and I exchanged a puzzled look as we slowed our pace and approached with caution.

From our vantage point, we could see a creature near Jonas, apparently talking to him. The closer we got, the clearer and more defined the creature and its voice became.

She was about the size of a medium sized bush. Her skin was ashy grey. She had very distinctive long white hair and her face was smooth and childlike.

“What’s your name?” Jonas asked her.

“My name is Nyx—Nyxy Serafin, but you can call me Nyx,” she replied.

We took advantage of the distraction and looked for a better angle to observe from. We ended up hiding behind a big metal cage in the darkest corner of the room.

From our new point of view, we could see her big green and orange eyes looking concerned.

“Is something wrong?” asked Jonas, looking worried.

“Besides the fact that everyone hates me?” asked Nyx.

“Why do you think that?” asked Jonas.

“I happened different than everyone else, and because of that I have no friends,” replied Nyx.

“What do you mean by ‘you happened different’? I don’t understand,” asked Jonas.

“You know, I happened like you did. You happened as well, otherwise you wouldn’t be here or even exist,” explained Nyx.

Based on Carla’s puzzled look, I knew she had no clue what Nyx was talking about either.

“I still don’t understand. Do you mean to say that you were born different?” ventured Jonas.

“Born? Is that what you undead people call it when you happen?” asked Nyx.

“Yes, I guess that’s what we call it,” said Jonas, starting to smile and chuckle.

“I happened like no one else before me, so that’s why nobody likes Nyx,” she said, almost crying.

“Where I’m from, we’re all born different. We have people of many races, with a variety of looks, sizes, shapes, colors, and personalities,” Jonas said to cheer her up.

“Oh, here in Threshold we’re not supposed to happen different. It’s a curse. A curse I’ll have to endure for the rest of my life,” said Nyx as her shoulders drooped.

“Being different, it’s not so bad. Eventually people will accept you for who you are,” explained Jonas, surprising me.

“You don’t understand,” Nyx cried.

She started to sob hard enough that her body lit up with a fierce fire. The room suddenly became much brighter. Jonas took a couple steps back in his cage.

“We have a problem,” said Carla. “If she doesn’t stop doing whatever it is she’s doing, she’ll burn him!”

Even from where we stood, we could feel the heat rising from her body.

“Listen, you don’t need to get upset. It’s okay, what others think doesn’t really matter,” said Jonas, trying to calm her.

“My people aren’t supposed to have a physical body at all, and I have a fiery one,” Nyx said, still crying while her body glowed brighter.

“Maybe you need to be with people who appreciate you instead of being with people who put you down and don’t accept you for who you really are,” offered Jonas, now sweating profusely.

Nyx thought for a second, then backed up against the wall when she finally realized that her body was burning. The water that had been running down the chamber walls moments before turned to steam. The moss turned ash-grey and disintegrated into dust.

“Are you okay?” asked Jonas.

“Yes, but everything around me isn’t when this happens,” explained Nyx, looking depressed. “I just don’t know why I happened so different from everyone else.” Her tears seemed to act like an accelerant for her flaming body. The more she cried, the hotter she burned and the deadlier she became.

“Our differences are what make us stronger, and differences are the root of the world’s beauty,” Jonas said. “Besides, where I come from, we strongly believe in destiny. We choose to believe that there’s a hidden purpose to life and a reason why we’re the way we are.”

“You’re not scared of me?” Nyx asked as she wiped away tears from her face.

“Not at all. In fact, I like that you’re different. In school, other kids often picked on me. They used to call me names and make fun of me, but not anymore. Now they accept me. Some are even my friends,” replied Jonas.

“School? We don’t have schools here. I wish I could go to school,” said Nyx, looking more at ease.

Much to our surprise, his plan worked. Her fierce glow slowly turned from a bright red into a cool ocean-blue and the blaze retreated. Her skin transitioned from a bright red hue to a cool blue glow before it was returned to a natural and pale tone that was almost human in nature. Stepping away from the wall, she quickly turned to face us, but thankfully she didn’t see us. That’s when I realized she was beautiful. She looked like a princess as her face irradiated benevolence, innocence, and goodness. She seemed out of place in the chambers.

“What is it like to be an undead?” asked Nyx.

“Why do you call me undead?” Jonas asked.

“Well, because you are,” replied Nyx as she moved closer to Jonas with her big eyes fixated on his face.

“No, I’m not,” replied Jonas vehemently.

“Did you die?” asked Nyx.

“Die? No, I haven’t, at least I sure hope not,” replied Jonas.

“Then you’re an undead. If you have a body and you’re not dead, then you’re an undead. You know, sometimes I feel like an undead myself,” Nyx said. “Why do you like to be undead anyway?”

“For starters, it is great to be and feel alive. Not to mention that it’s all I know.”

“The dead in Threshold also feel great and alive. They just don’t have a physical body,” said Nyx.

“Why do you call being born a happening? How does it work?” Jonas asked.

“Because the moment you lose your physical body in one of the many physical worlds, you’ll wake up here in Threshold. We call that waking up process happening,” explained Nyx.

“How do I get out of here?” Jonas asked.

“Why do you want to leave?” asked Nyx, looking worried.

“I was brought here against my will,” Jonas said. “What about you? Are you a prisoner too?”

“I am… but not the way you think, I’m a prisoner of my own body,” replied Nyx.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let anything bad happen to you,” said Jonas.

“You don’t understand—” Nyx started to explain but she was interrupted when the side of the chamber wall opened to reveal a bright moon outside. The snow rushed in, bringing with it cool and refreshingly crisp outside air.

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