The New World (The Last Delar) (10 page)

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Authors: Matthew Cousineau

BOOK: The New World (The Last Delar)
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Barely conscious, Taeau garbles, "What will happen to me now? Where will I live? How will…?"

Mia-Koda looks down at the young boy and waves her staff over his eyes, and Taeau falls into a deep, dreamless sleep.  His necklace glows dimly for a few moments, and Mia-Koda grabs it.  A light blinds her, and she falls back breathing heavily clutching her wrist.  Tib runs to his mistress to see if she is injured.  She looks down at him and between gasps she mumbles, "He . . . he is not . . . the last."

 

 

CHAPTER SIX

 

The moonlight creeps through the treetops, blanketing Taeau's cheeks as he falls into a deep, dreamless sleep beside Mia-Koda.  Far away under the same moonlight, Taeau's twin, stands staring at the sky, lost in thought.  He takes his eyes off the moon and walks back to his master's cave.  He comes to a small clearing and approaches the cave where his master killed the forest Monitor.  He enters the dark, damp cave with food he has gathered during the day.  The wetness of the cave glistens, reflecting his malnourished figure.

Having never been given a proper name, he answers only to "slave," "thief," "worm," and other various insults from his master Puddle.  Puddle has been a cruel master, and the young boy has become weak, his hair has grown wild and knotted, and he now smells nearly as foul as his master.  He lays out Puddle's dinner of shells and fish on the floor beside his master's throne. A throne made by layers of shells and bones colleted over the years. Puddle, who has become fat lifts up his arm and stares at an iridescent shell he found in the cave. A look of contempt washes over his dirty face and he throws the shell, striking the child. The boy falls back, holding his head in pain. Puddle leaps down from his throne and picks up the shell and waves it in his slaves face.

"What this I find in cave, slave? You hide it from master, huh?"

The boy looks up at Puddle in shock, shaking in fear.  "S-sorry master . . . I di-i-i-id not m-mean it, let me have it b-back I-I need it."

The boy’s stutter only brings courage to Puddle.  He jumps on top of the boy.  "You dare keep secrets from me?" he sneers crusheing the shell in his hand with a smile.

"Noooo!" cries the scared child watching his master destroy his secret possession.  Tears streak down his face, "Why, ma-ma-m-aster, I have been good, why…?"

"Because you mine! And I do what I want with you."

Puddle then chases the boy out of the cave and away from his meal.  He can hear Puddle laughing, and he falls to the ground weeping.  He stares at the moon and lightly cries until he has no more tears, then he lies down and closes his eyes.

Late in the night he wakes to a soft noise riding on the wind.  He sits up and stares into the forest.  His eyes reflect the moonlight, but he hears nothing but the rustling of leaves.  He hears something again, and this time he stands up and moves closer to the trees.  He stares into the forest, scratching his face with curiosity.  The calm silence begins to unnerve him, and he thinks about his rock.  Oskeau turns and runs to its hiding place.  The child digs up his most beloved companion and shivers in the cold.  He is not as careful as he should be, and in his carelessness he forgets to wait until his master is sleeping.  His heart pounds, and he mumbles to himself, "It has to b-b-be here, I nee-e-ed it, I will l-l-leave m-master," he says, crying while he digs.  When he spots his stone in the hole, his hands stop and his eyes fill with relief.

"I found you," whispers the young boy as he brushes off the dirt from the stone's smooth face.

But Puddle has been watching from inside the cave.  He has become increasingly angry witnessing his slave's disobedience. Just as his slave bows his head in relief, his master stomps to his side. "More secrets you keep from me?" he growls and he kicks the boy in the face.  There is a sharp whimper, and the boy tumbles backwards from his master's blow.  Puddle then snatches the stone from his slave's hand,  who is doubled over, coughing up dirt and blood. "I keep this for myself, you deceiving worm! I make a necklace of my own with it, and you will stare at my rock."

These words pierce the boy’s heart, and anger begins to burn inside him.  His chest begins to smolder in rage, and a faint red haze now emanates from his necklace.  He lunges at his master in anger, and he begins screaming and grunting while trying to grab the stone.  "Give it back to me!" he yells clearly.

Puddle jumps back, his voice becoming angrier and louder, "What? What did you say?"

The boy stands up and harnesses the power coming from within him.  He again hears a noise whispering on the wind, but this time a strange voice echoes in his ears.  While he does not understand what this voice is saying, it gives him courage and strength.

"Give it back to me now, Puddle," he says in a voice that is no longer timid but commanding.  Its power makes Puddle hold the stone to his chest and take a step back.  Puddle is shocked to hear the boy speak his name, and he tries desperately to regain control.

"Teach you a lesson I will slave." Puddle looks directly into his slaves eyes and tosses the stone into the forest.

"Nooooo!" the boy screams, watching the stone vanish into the night.  His body is ablaze with a rage unlike any he has felt.  His blood feels like it is on fire, and the world starts to glow red.  He closes his eyes; he feels all of his anger condense into a small ball inside of his chest.  The anger wants to leave him.  It pushes against his chest, burning for freedom.  He stops fighting and he expels the anger with a deafening, thunderous crack.  He is thrown to his back, and the forest around him goes dark.

He sluggishly wakes, opening his eyes to the night sky.  He is on his back, and everything is silent.  He sits up and his senses slowly come back.  First, he notices Puddle rolling around on the ground and holding his face.  He looks pathetic and childish, and this makes him giggle.  Next, sound begins to re-enter his mind, and he is shocked to hear his master screaming and crying in pain.

"Ahhhhh! It burns! So much pain! Wicked boy hurt me!  Ahhh!" There is blood squirting out of Puddle's hands, and when the Muddler takes his hands from his face the boy can see what he did to him.  A deep, bleeding gash is slashed across his master's face.  His heart begins to pound with fear and excitement when he sees what he has done.  Puddle desperately tries to escape from the boy by running back into the cave.  The young boy takes a deep breath, looks at the cave, stands up, turns and runs into the dark forest.

Frightened, the he runs as far as his feet will take him.  He does not know where he is going, but the air feels good and he enjoys his newfound freedom.  He continues running until his chest burns with each short breath.  The cold night breeze cools his wet skin.  He sits down at the base of a tree and begins to shiver from the cold.  The forest is dark here and the canopy allows little moonlight to penetrate its leafy thickness.  He huddles against a tree, anxiety and apprehension of his surroundings begin to play with his mind, and he starts to see things all around him.  He holds his necklace tight for comfort and closes his eyes.

He is nearly asleep when he feels his hands warm against the stone of his necklace.  The amulet begins to glow dimly in the darkness, and the small boy opens his eyes wide in wonder.  He stares in amazement at his necklace, clenching it tightly, absorbing all of the stones warmth.  A noise then startles him, and he turns his head, peering into the forest.  A rustling from above catches his ear.  His large reflecting eyes follow a small beam of moonlight that has begun to gradually penetrate the forest, casting a blue hue from the heavens to the ground.

It is not much light, but he makes out most of his surroundings. He is intrigued by the light's sudden appearance, and he slowly walks toward it, reaching his hand inside the light.  Playfully, he smiles at the shadows his fingers create in the light. Lost in the moment he stares at his hand and hears the same voice as before, but this time it seems much closer.  He spins around, but sees nothing in the forest.  The deep, chilling voice speaks again, and he stumbles backward into the light.  He loses his footing, falls back, and crashes through the forest floor.  He feels a sensation he has never felt before, as if the wind is blowing up from below him, and his stomach begins to turn from the sensation.  He starts to kick his legs and arms but he can't find anything solid.  He reaches up, watching the light slowly dim away to nothing.

---

The child wakes to the feeling of cold sand against his skin.  He opens his eyes to total darkness.  Alone, cold, and seemingly blind, he grasps his necklace and it begins to glow.  With the soft light from his chest, he explores this dark world.  He digs his hands into the soft sand and tries to climb the steep incline before him.  The farther he goes, the steeper he climbs.  His muscles ache as he struggles to continue his ascent.  His necklace pulses with every step, keeping him warm in the cold emptiness.  He can see a beam of light shinning down from the dark abyss above. It stops on a narrow door carved into a stone wall.  He reaches the top of the summit and slowly reaches into the light.  It warms his skin and he stares at his hand as it manipulates the heavenly beam.  He walks into the light and looks up into the brilliance from above.  He closes his eyes and embraces the warmth, breathing heavily and smiling at the peace he feels.  He opens his eyes and faces the great door.  Squinting into the light, he can see nothing beyond the doorway.  He looks down and sees markings carved into the stone around his feet.  He does not understand the symbols, but as he looks at them he grows fearful.  He hears whispers behind him and he turns to the darkness. Afraid, Oskeau creeps backwards into the open doorway.  Once he is inside the doorway, the light from above vanishes, and the floor begins to shake.  Boulders fall behind him with such force that he is thrown to the ground.  He scampers farther into the darkness and curls into a ball, waiting for the violence to stop.  Once the world calms, he stands up and waves his hands blindly in the dark.  "A wall," he mumbles in relief, and drags his hand along the wall.

He feels an indentation, flat on the bottom but round on the top.  There is something inside, small and smooth, with a type of hair sticking out of it.  He takes the unfamiliar object and smells it.  It has no odor, so he licks it, but the object tastes like nothing.  He plays with it for a while, but becomes bored and drops it.  He continues his journey and comes across many similar indentations. He reaches a gap in the stone that is unlike the others.  He moves his hand inside the gap and grabs at something he has never felt before.  It has a strange square shape and does not feel like stone.  He runs his palm along its brittle surface and makes out the shape of a hand.  His own hand fits inside the indentation, so he presses against it with an inquisitive smile.  As soon as his palm presses firmly into the object, he feels a wind blow against his face.  Startled by the warmth, he tries to pull his hand away.  Struggling to free himself he waves the object violently.  Then, a flare of pain shoots through his hand and up his arm.  His hand goes cold, and the object releases him.  He takes back his hand and throws the object into the cave's darkness.

The room begins to shake, and more stones fall from above.  He puts his hands over his head, and when the shaking ceases, he opens his eyes.  A dim light glows from behind him.  He turns to see what it is.  He looks to the ground and spots a single flame.  The object he found and discarded casts dark, contrasting shadows on the floor.  He stares in awe as many more of these lights begin to ignite, lining the walls of this hidden chamber.  His eyes settle on the strange object that he threw.  The boy remembers the pain this object caused and looks at his hand and sees that it is dripping blood.  His glance returns to the object, and he notices it is changing.  It has opened itself, becoming bigger, and its insides are flapping from side to side.

What Oskeau does not understand is that he is staring at the flipping pages from an ancient book. A book, over a thousand years old and bound in the flesh of his murdered kin.  The boy sits down in front of the book, gazing intently at the pages while carefully touching them with his fingers.  Markings begin to bleed onto the open page, and he stares at them for a long time.  He doesn't know what to make of the symbols, but the longer he stares at them, the more they rearrange themselves on the paper.  His necklace glows, and from inside his head a voice speaks to him.  The voice resembles his own, and unbeknownst to him, he is beginning to read his first words.

"Who opens the book of Ixkin?" he hears.  He does not know how to answer, so he speaks out to the empty room.

"Ah, I-I do."

The markings fade from the page and are quickly replaced by new ones.  He looks at them and hears his self-voice.  "I have tasted your blood, child of the Delar.  How have you come to this place?"

As the boy knows nothing of his lineage or of himself, he says with a true innocence, "I am nothing but a slave with no master.  I was l-l-lost when the forest attacked me and I fell into the dark."

The book slams shut. The boy nervously stares at the handprint on the cover.  He feels more alone now than he did before and yearns to read more.  He continues to stare at the book, and then he has an idea.  He knows it will hurt, but his curiosity is too great to resist, so he puts his hand into the indentation and waits. Nothing happens, and he slumps his shoulders in defeat.  Then a new sensation raises the hairs on his neck.  The boy's head snaps up, his eyes close, and his jaw clenches shut.  Pictures flash through his head with great speed.  He watches images of his life pass him by.  The flashing pictures begin to slow, and he sees images of this very night.  His body becomes hot, and he clenches his fists, breathing in quick, short breaths.  He sees Puddle throw his stone into the woods.  He sees a brilliant flash of light and Puddle squirming on the ground.  He sees himself running through the forest and then the beam of light from above, just before the forest floor vanishes under his feet.  Everything goes dark and his hand is released.  The book opens, flipping its pages, and when the pages stop shuffling, the markings appear again.

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