Chapter 4

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Everything is made up of matter. But she asked me, "Can everything matter, and matter equally? When do some things matter more than others?"

-From Acacia's Journal, Month of Akavish, Year 2498

 

Tracking the mud prints to where Gelland saw the two people disappear, she could make out some worn signs saying, "B---m Enterprises" and "SITE CLOSED DO NOT ENTER". Gelland made a sign, fire appearing and hovering above her left hand, which was gloved for the work ahead of her. She turned to the side, sticking it in a bush, which quickly lit aflame. "Draw your thumb over your index finger and down until you make the letter 'C'. Then take that same hand and wiggle your fingers turned upwards. You will think to capture the fire."

They did as she commanded, and the fire from the bush would stream away in four directions as if it were water flowing up through tubes. It would have, but didn't.

"What's this?" she asked. "You don't just make the sign. You have to believe that it follows your command."

They tried several more times. Their eyes becoming increasingly determined. "I don't know what we're doing wrong, Gelland. I'm doing my best."

Gelland grunted. "Maybe it's how unsure of yourselves you are. No memory, no augmenting, maybe? Try this." She put her hand into the burning bush, and pulled out a glowing rod. "This is Densing, the changing of states of matter. Do you remember any of this?"

"Yes!" Zolda said, nodding. "We took time yesterday to figure some of it out. Professor K'Leston helped us."

Gelland nodded. "That's actually better. Aug is trickier to handle than using Densing. Yova, make big walls of air as we go down. I'll light the way."

The fire rested above her hand, smokeless, and the bush smoldered. It would grow again, as it hadn't been long aflame. She and the others stepped through into the mouth of the cave. She took the lead down a descending walkway angled around a deep pit.  

"We heard some things about your Densing. They say you hunt people in the night. But what do you say?" Teragram asked.

"Mine lets me see in the dark." She started trembling, pursing her lips. "I wish that was a metaphor. They don't know what they've done to me. I feel like I can never see the traps laid in front of me..." The two girls put their hands on her shoulders. She pulled away from them, and strode ahead of them. "Did you ever realize that you are really rude?" Yova said. "Don't I get to be, with all I've been through?" Gelland responded. They did not talk back. Further down the shaft the walkway ended into a level floor that connected to a room with another walkway, but the rock path went straight out over water. "This is a strange place." Teragram noted. "These rooms don't feel natural at all. Like it was made for something." Crossing the chamber, they entered another much wider space. Along the sides and spanning the length of the long rectangular room, Gelland could make out white marble columns, which might have been nice in the past, but now stood chipped and moss laden. Down the line, the group could make out a gemlike magenta spire of about the same height as the man standing next to it. Lixo Bloom came into view as the group approached, his clear breastplate over black leather glinted from the light of the Versicolor Vein of Creation sticking up through the ground. Another Vein. More power. "Welcome, honored guests..." he cut off as he noticed the youths before him. Gelland then saw the cold-glowing bodies of men in worker's clothing in corners, the smell of rot pungent in the dank air. "Curse him. How did you all end up here? What more do I have to do to get that boy to do something right, for once?" "What have you been doing, Bloom? What have you done to these people, and what do you know about my father?" Gelland said. It suddenly made sense what had happened to the travelers reported missing on the road. He had lured heads to this spot to compete for it. But, for as many bodies as she saw, it didn't make sense why he hadn't won it yet. Lixo looked at her with a smile. He looked younger than before. His salt and peppered hair was back to black, and he lost the wrinkles on his round face. Even his pointed ears seemed to rise higher than before. "Now look at you. You're up already. I know you're angry, but I may have plans for you. You could even fight for this Kosmoid Scale if you help gather some heads for me. You don't have to die." He turned around, yelling, "Cross!" His shout echoed, "Get out here and explain yourself!" No response. He called again. Gelland swallowed hard. Cross must have organized this whole thing. Just to kill this man, or could it be the other way around? "Useless boy." He walked over to a pillar, placing a torch in the sconce, and lit it with a small fire he called to his hand. He looked at the other four, furrowing his brow. "But I don't care who your parents are- if you're down here, you know too much."

"Is this necessary?" Zolda whispered to Teragram. 

He gulped. "What if she's it? We can't leave her." He looked around the room at the corpses- the men and animals. He was sniffing at the rot. "Is this what death is like?"

"Why did you kill my father? Was it just because he won the Vein?" Gelland called towards Lixo. It made eerie echoes in the large space. She could only assume it had been a temple of some kind.

"That was a big part of it. There was also what he had become. He plead with me when I found him outside the gate. He said that you and he were leaving, that we wouldn't have to worry about you two. That you had an uncle. I sought out your genealogy, but it doesn't go back any farther than your father. They said he served in the military. No record. A Hal lies. He made me promise that I wouldn't hurt you. I'm an honorable man, you see. But when Zil put three Scales in front of my face, you and your kin stand to oppose me. Though, when I saw you fight, it made me think that it doesn't have to be that way."

Kolen would mention my uncle from time to time. We were leaving- why didn't he tell me that? And why would I even stay without him? she wondered. Her mind reeled with new insight. He hadn't wanted her to tell others of his beliefs against Zil. He was keeping so many secrets. "Honorable? And yet you nearly killed me."

"Who do you think it was that paid for your medical treatment? Do you think Cross earns enough to just pay for that? I help him save his girlfriend, and he goes and tells you what I did to your father? I underestimated him. You five were lured here by him, only one of you I can keep until the next bout. Clever boy. Maybe he knew that I'd spare you, and take the rest. Just stand by, Nameless, I'll take care of them and then you can have your chance at the Scale. Make your choice."

A long moment passed. A minute of silence. Of what seemed to stretch for an hour. Gelland's trickle of sweat went down her side, and she felt the need to gag. They all waited on her. She could join Lixo and probably Cross, and gain some measure of stability in society. A Hal might just have to take what she's given.

The others glanced at each other. She could even take this Vein as her own, but without five heads here, she'd have to wait. Although, these people who had come with her would surely be killed in that time. If they killed Lixo, she wouldn't get the Vein, unless she lured others like he did. And she couldn't leave it alone. It should be hers.

But I could have what I wanted. I could become a Metamorph, like Lixo. That "glory" Dad talked about would be mine! She felt the nausea deepen at a thought. You want to betray people who want to help you, and that's glory to you. The thought intruded, and it felt like haze dispersed in her mind. A clear, unmuddled thought, though one she still fought against. Yova was right. I don't care, just like others. I provoked them into helping me, to fight a man they don't even know. I would be killing them in letting them fight. She remembered the help she had been offered by the woman in the dream. Should I have taken that help?

Gelland shook her head at him. Lixo nodded.  A giant, bronze colored ship's wheel manifested from the back of his body. Its surface gleamed light, and pulsed with power. It had five spokes, and swiveled from side to side. It was wider than his entire body and nearly as tall, and its size loomed over them as Gelland felt her sweat grow cold as she looked up at it. Its five spokes quickly twisted and congealed into an arm, banded like muscle. Lixo slammed its fist to the ground in front of him with a crack, shaking it underneath them.  

Gelland took a shaky step forward, left hand outstretched to the side as if to shield her friends and stood firm. She knew she couldn't fight him, but she had to give them a chance. "Get away-" Lixo charged her, and her friends swarmed in front, cutting off his path. She gave a shout. Three were pushed outwards by the arm, but Yova blindly threw clear gas hunks at him, causing him to duck. Gelland was able to sign and fling a wind ball, but the arm blocked its burst of air. Lixo lifted up his hand and a dark red greatsword, glowing like dying embers in a hearth fell into the hand above him. Its flames licked at the air. "Your father was a fool, leaving me this blade! Your blood will meet his, soon!" he said, swinging at Gelland. A gas wall put up at the last second by Yova was knocked into she and Gelland, sending them sprawling, with the wall making a clang near them, nearly split in half. It puffed away back into air. Gelland's pain flared in her shoulder. I have to be the one to protect them, but I'm so useless! she thought, conflicted over feeling for her friends' safety over wanting vengeance. Zolda had gotten up and was striking at his back with a long gaseous club. Teragram and Zeraphel picked up the blocks of gas that had fallen and continued to throw them. They encroached on him. Lixo blocked the first and threw up a wall for the other attacks. Yova helped Gelland get to her feet, and Yova joined in with the others. As she went in, Lixo backed up suddenly, throwing Zolda off balance from his attack with the club. Lixo formed Fire Cone. With all four in reach, the flames encased them sending them to their backs, scorched. Gelland looked on, horrified, as the smoke cleared enough to see them lying there, but not enough for Lixo to see with this limited of light. So she took aim with her left hand, carefully imbuing aug, she made the signs. Fire proceeded in a line through the smoke, catching Lixo in the eyes with a pop. She could see him writhe and hear his scream, the fire consuming his eyes. "He's finished! I saved them!" she whispered to herself. She rushed to her friends as fast as she was able, and they were already starting to get up. Slowing to a stop, she narrowed her eyes at them. Their skin burns were steadily receding, healing on their own, though the four still groaned in pain. "I heard my kind can heal people, right Gelland? Let me figure this out." Zolda said as he gathered water from the damp floor, turning it plasma. He hadn't touched them yet, and their burns had been healing on their own. What had they done? Gathering up the thin layers of glowing ooze into his hands, he smeared it on the other three while moving them behind two different columns. The ooze seeped into them, further causing their red, blistered skin to turn back to their regular mild brown. Save for Teragram, who was lighter skinned. Then they heard cackling. Lixo ran towards them swinging the giant arm at Teragram and Yova, shallowly slashing them both across their chests. They dropped back to the damp ground in a heap, their singed clothes giving off smoke. Lixo looked in Gelland's direction, who peeked around her pillar. Her breath caught. Lixo's ash stained eyes glowed the same bronze color of the arm, which faded in a puff of particles. The bloodied, fiery sword dropped into his black gloved hands while he made his way towards them as well. Zeraphel ducked out of cover, throwing more gas hunks at him. They hit him in several places, one breaking skin on his forehead. He grunted lightly, but didn't seem phased by it, blood not coming out of the already closing wound. Lixo caught Zolda by the throat as he tried to run on the other side towards the two others, dragging him back out into the open while Zolda kicked and batted at him with his makeshift longhammer. Lixo threw him headlong into Zeraphel, toppling her. Gelland's own lightning shots didn't deter him from coming up to them and raising his sword. In a panic, Gelland put herself between the two, and bringing out half her quarterstaff, buffeted him as best she could with it in her left hand. The two behind her slowly got to their feet, but Gelland was forced back past the magenta Vein. She felt a pulse in her chest, like her heart wanted to leap towards the pillar of light. She was able to dodge his attacks, but when she saw the engaged couple helping each other rise to their feet, she lingered on the sight. Thrusting down through her chain mail, the sword blazed into the right side of her chest, missing her heart. He pinned her to a column with the blade, and she burned again from the inside.

She saw all four of them running towards them, as though it were in slow motion when the numbness took hold. He released her, letting her slump down, flames burning away the bandages. She looked out at them instead of at Lixo as he held up the sword. My hope was in all the wrong things. These strangers are helping me while they see me hurting. They might forget me, but that's okay. Did that woman in the dream help me? No, she said to help myself. Someone else, then. You heard me. This did turn out to be a miracle... She croaked weakly out into the air, "Thanks for helping me." He took her head off at the neck. She only felt a pinch.

Gelland lay in a bright, warm place. Eyes closed, body sprawled out, and more comfortable than she had ever remembered being, but it was almost as if she had been here her whole life. The warmth waited upon the skin of her face, but she was hesitant to accept it, remembering the previous fire that had consumed her. She almost expected those sands to come rushing upon her again. Instead she heard singing. One voice, but as if many. Like the sound of rushing water, crashing against the rocks, breaking down the hardest materials. She remembered her end, regretting how she'd lived her life: not appreciating the time she was given, even if it meant hurting. She also wanted to help those who were hurting, like she'd been helped. If only I could be both here and there.

She heard shouting, with indistinct words shared between two people. Cymbals clanged and shook noisily as one voice grew more distinct. She was angry. The same matronly voice from her dream said, "Fine, take her then! But remember, she's part of our deal. You girl, you will curse him to his face when you see what he's like. Just like I did."

 Rumbling, like the thunder of a thousand storms, came from the second person. She heard the first shrink back, making a metal scraping sound. A whimper escaped the woman.

A vibration resounded throughout her whole being and in the place where she was. A masculine voice sounded out in song. The vibrations washed over and through her head. The singing voice said: 

THE TIME IS NOT YET COME

ALL MAY FORGET, YET I WILL NEVER LEAVE YOU NOR FORSAKE YOU 

AND OUT OF YOUR HEART I WILL POUR RIVERS OF LIVING WATER    

Gelland hummed in response to the song. In delight. The warmth consumed her being, and for the second time felt that she was being pushed upwards as if on a geyser. Magenta light trickled in through her opening eyes. The area of light around her had the appearance of upturned fingers, as if she was in a hand.

Her head was floating on a frame of nothingness. Then, a thousand shimmers of grey streams shot out of her neck. They outlined her frame, shoulders to feet. They wove in her body nerves and veins, bone and ligament. But something was missing. A small, white light hovered before her eyes. A hand took it, and pushed the seed through her outline, and into her empty chest. It brightened the grey, lifeless lines into blazing fires of magenta. Blood rushed through her veins, and the pounding of her heart resumed. Skin poured down her sides and closed in the life-giving light inside.

And she stood, naked. Yet more whole and protected than she had ever felt. She breathed once more.

She blinked and her eyes seemed to clear, the light dissipating. Her body radiated with the same warmth as before in that place as her heart raced yet again. She consumed the magenta light into herself and found that she was again before Lixo and the others. All wounds and burns healed, and more strength than she had ever felt. She breathed deeply. More alive than any right I have to be. she thought. What happened, who sent me back? The four's and his mouth gaped. Of the four, some had been sprawled on their backs, and Yova sat on one knee, face bloodied. Some time had passed, but she could tell it hadn't been long. Maybe several seconds.

"I knew it." Yova laughed.

"No, twice! Enough already!" Lixo yelled.

"Seems someone wants me alive more than either of us wants me dead!" she yelled in defiance of all she had felt from her life until now. Of all she had told herself. The time had not yet come for her to die, it seemed she was on someone else's timing.

She looked behind herself. She was there, sat up against the pillar. With a hole through her armor and chest. Headless. She remembered seeing Kolen after he died. The sights were much the same with the gray skin and blood. She could see her own insides. She made herself sick. And she had to keep moving. Like her birth month, Nakhash, she too had shed her skin.

Not having time to get all her chips, she bent to place one hand near her bag tied on her old belt loop. Getting close enough, she signed for her long, brown shirt- it appearing and covering well past her waist. She also grabbed her cloak. Then she signed fire.

His frustration boiled over along with his tears, and turning back he swung wildly at her. She ducked and the other four piled on top of him with surprise in their faces at her return. With him being held back at the arms and legs, she pulled the sword hilt from his hands. She tossed it to the ground, the sword blade's heat biting into her hands.

The air around him began to ripple. The four's heads were being pushed backwards. The rippling air pulled them together, smacking their heads into one another. Each of them fell to the ground, clutching their faces and groaning. She switched to her thermal vision. His outline had a shifting glob of orange, from his knees, upward.

He bounded towards her, his large frame all the more intimidating with his veins bulging in his face and arms. She knew now not to touch him, lest she get attached to the plasma he'd made around him. She danced backwards and took her cloak off. A corner of a wall had collapsed, and water trailed over the debris. It was near enough.

He threw clear needles at her, and she had to take one in the hand. It entered and was forced out again as the wound reknit itself with barely an itch. She signed onto the cloak and flung it at him. Half his bulk was covered by the cloak. He started to excise it from his plasma, but then the trap took effect.

The water on the wall and floor had bolted towards the circle the size of his chest she had made on the cloak. The water started encasing his left arm, which he had the cloak on. He stumbled a little, and put his other hand mistakenly into the circle, as well. His torso was entangled on himself, and he groaned. He charged towards her again. She shook her head, he having fallen for something she'd often trained for.

Signing lightning, she made it into a rough ball, which coursed with blue light in her hand. She dodged to the lumbering man's left, and planted the seed of lightning into the water trap. The blue ball popped open, and energy crackled up his arms and into his face. The bronze light flickered out of his eyes, and he took the full brunt of the heat. Gargling on steam in the back of his throat, he sank to his knees. The once brown cloak was singed black as it fell off him and onto the ground.

"I understand why you did it, now." Gelland said. "I can't let you go, but I understand. As much as I hate you, I know we are the same." 

"No." he whimpered back.

Gelland planted a kick into his chest, sending him backwards. The other four looked up towards she and Lixo. Gelland stood at his head. "This isn't right!" he sputtered through dry, cracked lips, "Why did it go to you? This makes no sense. The Scale your father won from me should have been mine as well! Curse the both of you!" Gelland raised the blade which was coated with hers, her father's, and her friends' blood. "I only did what I knew was best!" he cried, shoulders thrashing weakly. 

She looked at the four and back to him, opening her mouth to shame him, but something else spilled from it. "The pride of our hearts has deceived us, in our high walls, we say 'Who will bring me down to the ground?'" Gelland didn't feel much of the rage at Lixo anymore. But for the safety of others, for the justice that was owed him, she drove the point through his forehead.

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Oct 15, 2021 18:10

BETA READER:   The Acacia's journal entries intrigue me. I wonder as a reader what important they hold for the story world and the characters.   Large paragraphs still need work. The density of the paragraphs is working against the story telling.   The Vein brings up a "Hungers Game" allusion to me; I like that.   I still like the Yova character; she makes me laugh sometimes with her bluntness.   Battle/fighting scenes need shorter sentences, more paragraphs, punchy writing. Long sentences slow down pace; short sentences speed up pace.   Lixo pisses me off! Ha ha. He is the character in a MS that can make or break your main character. How will he affect her, I wonder?   My emotional connection with Gelland has grown stronger. I admire her a little and cheer for her, but what makes her really special in her story world? Her abilities? Her courage? Her tenacity? Her circumstances only?   Watch out for too many be verbs (am, is are, was, were, being, been) and the linking verbs seem or remain. All authors use them, but they water down writing, take away impact, make writing passive, take the reader into a more cerebral than engaged state, and remove the chance to create a vibrant story; e.g., Yova was right. I'm inconsiderate, just like others. It just sits there. Possible rewrites: Yova always hit the nail right on the head. I dished out as much consideration as a rock...just like everyone else OR Yova never missed a beat. I acted as inconsiderate as everyone else OR Yova knew me too well. I felt no consideration for anyone, just like all the others.