Unusual Suspects
No one had noticed Arrazanal return to her chambers. She watched the sun vanish beyond the horizon as she lay on her white silk sheets buried beneath silver satin quilts. The darkness of the night revealed the twin moons in the sky above the peninsula. Their silver and blue light illuminated the cover of the forests and gardens surrounding the temple; moon-bees made their appearance and rainbow butterflies rose from their cocoons. Despite the forest’s nocturnal beauty, Arrazanal was haunted by the images of the Noszarel female. She remembered her half-open dead eyes, her open mouth slanting to the side and her pale face, drained of her rosy skin colour. She remembered the bloody slits in her arms, her bed soaked in red and how it had dried in the sheets. Arrazanal couldn’t close her eyes; otherwise, she would be bombarded with those images. She wished that she could attain an amnesia potion and just forget the lot.
Her mind raced. What would possess someone to take their own life in such a brutal fashion? Then it struck her: could she have been the one to send that female to her death? Arrazanal gripped the sheets and rolled further into a ball. She must be the one responsible for the female’s death. She had despised the Noszarel like any Nalashi. She even entertained the idea of killing their soldiers if they attacked the village again, but this was different – it was personal. War brought out the worst in people, and it brought out the murderer in Arrazanal. Tears leaked from her eyes and dripped onto the sheets, she wiped her nose and cheeks dry with her robe. She rolled on her back and watched the fire flicker on the candle of the tiny lantern above her bed. She thought about her healer telling her brother about the Noszarel’s death. He would probably guess that she had caused her death through her empathic gifts, but he would be elated at the news. He would probably try to harness her power to annihilate the Noszarel.
The candle flickered, and its flame extinguished. She could have relit it, but the healers ordered the attendants to remove all objects with sharp edges or the potential to create fire from the patient’s rooms and reach. She was in darkness again. The four corners of her chamber grew shadows and her fears escalated at the thought of something otherworldly sharing the same room. The silky curtains that gently swayed in the night’s breeze ceased, the summer air started to drop its warmth and the cold crept around Arrazanal.
You didn’t kill me. A voice whispered in her mind. She shot up from her bed and glanced around her chamber. She strained her eyes to see if someone was there, but they told her she was alone. Her eyes were wrong. A fire ignited in the pit of her stomach and she pushed its energy and its heat up to her chest. She was not going to shy away to whatever was here.
“Who said that?” she called out in the dark room. There was no reply. She stood up from her bed and she strolled around her room, searching for another patient with a deranged sense of humour who had snuck into her chamber.
Go away. The voice whispered. Goosebumps grew on her skin. She felt the hairs on her neck rising, but her courage didn’t diminish.
“Nai, you’re the one intruding. You leave,” she said. The curtains by the open window moved and instantly, her attention snapped to them. She watched them sway as if someone had their finger pressed against them as they walked to the corner of the room. Arrazanal’s eyes followed the curtains movements as her heart hammered in her chest. In the shadowed corner, a pale lavender hand reached out and grabbed the curtains. She leapt back as the hand turned into an arm with a long opening in the wrist. Another arm reached out from the shadows to grip the bed. An Ezoni form pulled itself out from the black corner. Arrazanal fell back on the shelves behind her, sending the crystals and ornaments holding the dry herbs crashing to the floor.
A pale face appeared from the darkness. Arrazanal dreaded seeing the Noszarel female dragging her naked form along the marble floor.
Can you keep a secret? the wraith said without moving her lips.
Before Arrazanal could find her thoughts, her mind was blasted with images of walking in the meadow during daylight, but she was not alone – there were two other companions with her. They were dressed in maroon Noszarel garbs with weapons strapped around their waists and across their chests; she looked down to see she was wearing similar attire. They crouched low behind the green and purple foliage of the meadow. Arrazanal could take no action against this vision and turned to look through the bushes to see the Nalashi villagers going about their business, who were oblivious to their presence.
One of her companions turned over to her and then towards the other. “There are more of them during the day, we should’ve moved during the cover of night.”
“No, their sentries don’t patrol the meadow during the day, this is the safest time for us.” Arrazanal felt her words effortlessly leave her mouth.
“If we’re caught, they’re going to torture us and then kill us. I’ve heard the stories from our soldiers fighting the Nalashi. They’re wild,” he said.
“I know what our people say about them, but our contact is Nalashi. They’re going to meet us behind the spring pools, near the river,” she said.
“If he tries anything, I will gut him before he drops to the grass,” her companion said tapping his sheathed dagger.
“If you’re getting nervous, then go back to our miserable village, and you can beg the high chief not to execute you for treason. If you want out, then you’re going to have some trust,” she said.
“I hope it’s worth it, sister,” the other male companion said while his lips curled into a nervous smile.
Arrazanal felt her face smile and watched as her arm reached over to the brother’s head and rub his hair with her elegant lavender hand. The three of them continued their trek along the meadow, only stopping if she sensed someone getting close and resuming when danger cleared.
“I can see the hot springs, we’re almost there,” the brother said. They climbed over a mound of grass. Arrazanal felt her head tingle as she stood to her feet; there was something or someone nearby. She felt her body freeze and her other companions stopped and turned to look at her with quizzical expressions.
She leaned over to her brother. “Someone or something’s here,” she breathed.
The three of them glanced around the empty meadow, but there wasn’t an Ezoni in sight. In the distance, Arrazanal spotted her hut, but the Noszarel wouldn’t have known that. The brother turned; he opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but his attention was snatched away when they heard a humming of a little girl behind the foliage. Arrazanal felt herself sneak behind the trunk of the tall tree standing beside the bushes. The others mimicked her actions. She felt a sense of unease knowing that her former self was hiding in the tree branch above them, watching them, studying them like a predator. But this was unknown to the Noszarel trio. The little girl appeared in view. Arrazanal instantly recognised Zjelazanal and watched her carefully stepping over the tree roots, plucking teal flowers growing from the hanging vines. She watched the girl innocently picking the flowers, steadily getting closer to them. She feared that her companions might be forced to take the girl’s life, but she was terrified of her feelings of compassion being discovered.
“I told you we’re not alone,” Arr felt herself say.
“She isn’t our mission, we need to keep moving,” the brother said.
“If she sees us, then she is a liability,” said her other companion in a low menacing tone.
Arrazanal glanced back to Zjelazanal, her thoughts raced as she tried to come up with a solution.
“Just take her with us,” she said glancing over to her brother and her other comrade. They nodded in agreement with her proposal and began inching closer to the girl. But something was off. She felt her mind was not her own anymore, her body started shaking, and sweat poured from her skin. Her heart was now beating so fast that she thought it would burst from her ribs. A powerful dread overcame her mind. She could no longer hold her thoughts away from believing that her brother and other companion were going to murder her in cold blood.
The only thing she could do was to end their lives before they ended hers. She turned to the men, who were already trying to defeat each other. She leapt on her brother’s back and sunk her teeth deep into his neck. Blood filled her mouth, and her teeth felt like they had crushed his windpipe. She felt a painful pull of her braid; her brother peeled her head from his neck as he sent her body slamming onto the ground. Her other companion clocked his leg back and released the full force of his kick into her ribs, snapping them instantly.
“Run Zjel, run!” a voice screeched from above. She could see another, older Nalashi girl hiding high in the tree branch. It was her, looking at herself, turning away and calling to her sister. She ripped her short bow from her chest, yanked out an arrow from her quiver and pulled back the strings. She was going to place an arrow straight through the Nalashi girl’s eye. When she released her string, the arrow flew to the branch and burrowed itself into the wood.
The girl dropped headfirst onto the tree roots. This was her chance to end this savages’ life. She pulled another arrow from her quiver, positioned it in hand and ready to drive it through her heart.
“We will not be stopped!” she screamed at the top of her bruised and agonised lungs. Before she could dive in for the kill, a small and powerful force smash over her temple and cheek, plummeting her into the abyss.
~
Arrazanal felt her mind getting yanked back into her body and back into the shadowy room. She was now on the cold stone floor, yet she had no recollection how she ended up there. After several dazed blinks, she remembered the Noszarel wraith in the corner prior to her vision. She scrambled back to her feet, glancing like a frightened deer at every nook of her chambers, yet the wraith had disappeared. Arrazanal placed her hands over her breast, trying to keep her heart and breathing steady.
She replayed the last few memories of the Noszarel female. Arrazanal’s sorrow bubbled up and her tears released from her face. She still didn’t understand what the female wanted to show her, but she knew it was something they were willing to risk the wrath of Noszarel leaders and Nalashi warriors. She had realised that she no longer thought of her as an enemy, but a person that once had a family – an equal. Arrazanal shook her head and wiped her eyes dry.
The nightly summer air had returned to the room. It was again warm and welcoming. She strolled to the transparent curtains and pulled them back. She leaned over the window ledge and, to her surprise the gardens were only a jump down. Arrazanal turned to the chamber’s entrance and strained her ears to listen for anyone close by. In the hallway, she could hear several people walking and talking – yet no one had checked on her in several hours. The wheels in her head began turning. She wanted to know about the secret that the Noszarel felt was worth dying for. The only way to uncover the piece of the puzzle was to return to the meadow where she first spotted them.
She dived to the bedside drawers and cupboards for her regular clothes. Arrazanal pulled off her white robes and grabbed her emerald and violet loincloth and slipped into it. She yanked out her purple leather tunic and awkwardly strapped it around her chest. She felt around her neck for her mother’s feathery necklace; it wasn’t there. Panic struck through her as she rummaged through the cupboards, but to no avail. The necklace was missing. She hoped it was still in the meadow. Arrazanal considered returning to the Temple once she discovered the truth. It wouldn’t be too difficult to sneak back into her bedchambers and no one would have to know she left for the night. It’s easier asking for forgiveness from her healer than asking for permission, she reasoned.
With one last glance to the door, Arrazanal gripped the edge of the window and slowly placed her feet on the narrow ledge of the Temple. She sucked in a deep breath, made a prayer to the spirits and she released her grip. Her legs sprung from the ledge, sending her momentarily airborne. That instant, a memory flashed into her mind, it felt as if she had done this before. She recalled falling from a different building, dropping without grace and crashing into the soil, creating a large dent in it. This dazed her, as she knew that this was the first time she had ever attempted jumping from a building, or so she believed. Her feet contacted the grass and shock from the impact shot into her ankles. Arrazanal jumped back to her feet, quickly wiped away the pieces of grass from her legs and then bolted across the gardens.
She sensed guards patrolling around the gardens. They would want to know why a teenager would be wandering around at this hour and she wasn’t interested in explaining her motives. She psychically masked herself from their view before stepping out past one of the patrolling guards. They didn’t even flinch at her presence. With a small victorious smile, Arrazanal continued her sprint to the meadow on the edge of her family home. In the distance, she could see an amber glow from the windows. She prayed that her brother was asleep, and her sister wouldn’t burn the wooden hut to the ground.
A faint sound of neighing came from the horses in the outdoor stables. A figure walked out from the structure. Arrazanal couldn’t make out the features of this person, but her mind’s eye sensed their dark aura: it was Dathazanal. She dived behind the bushes, close to where she had found the Noszarel, but she was too loud. The crunching of leaves and twigs beneath her feet brought her brother’s attention to her location. She couldn’t see his face, but she knew his eyes were locked to the bush she was hiding behind. Of all people, Arrazanal had no desire to see or speak to Dathazanal. He was already suspicious of her behaviour and no doubt he would have heard about the suicide of the Noszarel female from Kaitajinal.
She watched as he pulled out their father’s serrated whip from his belt. The shards of glass were caught in the moonlight. Her heart hammered in her chest and sweat rushed out from her skin, as he probably believed that she was another Noszarel in the meadow. Fear struck her at the thought of him cutting her down without even demanding for her identity. Rage irradiated from his aura, he stomped confidently and dangerously like a monster across their family field with a whip in hand. Arrazanal caught the sight of her brother’s eyes; they were black, hollow and wild. He will strike even if she moved into view to show it was her. She controlled her breathing and concentrated on the same masking ability she accomplished in front of that guard earlier, but this was different – his attention was entirely focused on her.
A warm, invisible cloak wrapped around her, she held it and tried to empower it with all her concentration. Dathazanal slowed down his pace. She watched with bated breath as he reached over to the bush and gripped the branches. At this closeness, he should have seen Arrazanal, but she knew her concentration would break if she even twitched a muscle and she would return to the temple with deep cuts across her face – perhaps he would even kill her.
“Dath!” she heard her sister calling from the hut. Dathazanal’s hand released its grip on the bush and turned to his sister.
“I’m in the middle of something!” he shouted across the meadow.
“I dropped the heavy water bucket, and now the fire’s getting too big,” she replied.
“For spirit’s sake! You’re such a benor’e.” Dath sprinted to the house, leaving Arrazanal breathing with relief. Once her siblings disappeared inside the hut, she continued undisturbed to the spot where it happened. The moonlight shone through the opening of the leaves, illuminating the turned and twisted soil below. Arrazanal felt sickened to see dried blood hanging on the grass blades and fallen leaves, she glanced to the thick tree root where she had fallen and could see drops of her own dry blood on the wood. Wedged underneath the root, she saw a red and magenta feather sticking out from the soil. Arrazanal gently pulled out the long leather strap of the necklace and held it up in the moonlight. The cord had been snapped, and several of its beads had been lost. She sighed in frustration and wrapped the cord around her wrist and tightly tied it with her teeth. A gentle chirping sound came from a branch above her where two blue hawks perched up on a branch curiously stared at her presence.
“I don’t know exactly what I’m looking for and I’m afraid to find out,” she whispered to the birds. They chirped one last time and disappeared higher into the tree. She kneeled on the soft grass and placed a hand on the trunk of the tree, not knowing what else to do. She closed her eyes and tried connecting to the consciousness behind it, but she was met with silence. Arrazanal tried again, imagining herself banging her fist on a closed door inside her mind, trying to get someone’s attention and again there was nothing.
Frustrated, she let go of the tree and leaned her back against it. A strange sensation rolled up her spine. She felt an electric current going through her from the tree and the warm ground below. She saw the ghostly apparitions of the three Noszarel before her, but it wasn’t their spirits – it was living knowledge. Their forms transformed into a ball of rose-coloured light and darted beyond the meadow, leaving behind a light trail for her to follow.
Arrazanal leapt to her feet and chased after the trail. The light continued further into the thicket. She dodged low branches and jumped over white boulders. She recognised the steam emanating in the distance from the hot springs. Her attention snapped back to the light that continued past the springs and to the river’s edge. She forced her feet to stop before she ran into the black water, but the light trail blazed across the water’s surface and continued to the opposite shore until it disappeared behind the dark trees of the Haunted Forest.
Goosebumps grew on her skin. She now understood they intended to go to the Haunted Forest. She stared for what seemed like hours at the dark outline of the trees. The Nalashi never crossed the river to the opposite shore out of fear of never finding their way home. The tribe’s elders used to frighten the children with stories about the forest; they said it was like a maze that captured those who wandered too close. The druids said that the Wild Spirits forbade anyone from entering their home domain or be faced with the spirit’s wrath. The warriors on the other hand said that large people-eating panthers stalked the forests searching for their next meal. Arrazanal didn’t know what to believe and what was true. The legends of the Haunted Forest dated back to during the first Na’leu tribe so the Noszarel would have similar myths about this deadly place.
The warm breeze had suddenly died; the sounds of animals among the trees had grown quiet and even the flow of the river stopped. She heard a low hum from within her mind. It was the song of the forest, but its tune was deep and menacing. The longer Arrazanal listened, the louder the discordant song became, almost like a thump of war drums from the Haunted Forest. It was calling out, it was calling to her, and it was singing its song only she could understand. She furrowed her brows, staring down the forest – almost daring it to strike her. Energy burst from her purple skin. She looked down to her hands to see an emerald glow shining in the night.
“I knew it,” said a growling voice from behind her. She spun around and outstretched her arms ready to release her power, but the green glow wavered and vanished from her hands. A black figure sat on a stallion among the wooden trunks, in one hand he held the elk’s reins and in the other was the serrated glass whip.
“Yet, I didn’t know how powerful you were,” Dath said jumping off the saddle and walking out from the shadows. His face was twisted into a delighted smile.
“Dath, please, it’s not what you think,” Arr said.
“Stop lying, Arrazanal! I’ve given you plenty of opportunities to come clean about your gifts, yet you continue to lie,” he screamed so loudly that his stallion trembled, “you’re coming with me, now.”
“Don’t be daft, I’m not going anywhere with you while you’re like this,” Arr said taking a step back.
“It’s not a request. Get on the elk,” he said unfurling his whip.
“Why should I?” Arr said as she tried reaching into Dathazanal’s subconscious to calm him down. Instead, his disturbed mind shoved her back out and he lashed out his whip that cracked just an inch from her ears. The sudden boom of the whip’s crack rang in her ear. She held her ear trying to soothe the pain.
“Try anything like that again, and next time it won’t be near your ear,” he hissed.
Arrazanal eyed her brother as she climbed on the elks back. He climbed on behind her. Dathazanal grabbed the horse’s reins and whistled; the hooved beast instantly turned and galloped away from the river.
“Where are we going?” Arr asked gripping onto the saddle as they sped through the meadow.
“We’re going to the Conclave, and I’m taking you before the Battlelord, then he will have to accept me amongst his neonates,” he said.
“And what if I tell him and the Archdruid that you threatened me into coming with you forsaking the spirit’s blessings?” she asked.
“I’ve told the Battlelord all about you, and we have an agreement. Once the Archdruid sees your power, he will take you as a personal student. So, hiding your gifts will be futile, Arr,” Dath said.
“This is a dark path you’re taking, Dath,” she said under her breath.
“War is a dark path,” he said.
They rode past many houses. The village centre was close, but Arrazanal noticed people running and shouting across the cobbled roads. They were packing their belongings on wagons and horses; panic had struck their hearts. Warriors on elk-back came bounding into the village centre, all of them heavily armed with whips, daggers and bows. In the horizon, that eerie amber glow loomed above the night sky.
Dathazanal immediately stopped the horse and called out to them. “What in the spirit’s name is going on?” He was ignored.
A woman ran out of her hut holding a large sack in one arm and an infant in the other. She looked up at Arrazanal with a frightened expression.
“The Noszarel are here!” she screamed.
“Our prophets should’ve foreseen this attack, why didn’t they warn us?!” Dath called to the hysterical female.
“It was an ambush, just get out of here!” she said before climbing onto her wagon.
“We need to go back home and get Zjel, Dath. We have to leave,” Arr said turning over to her brother.
“No, we need to help our warriors!” Dath shouted.
Before Arrazanal could protest, he whistled, and the elk broke into a run straight into the village centre. Arrows flew across the town, almost hitting the siblings and their horse. Roaring fires engulfed buildings, trees and some people unfortunate enough to be caught in their destructive power. She watched Nalashi warriors in formation shooting their arrows into the trees, while others fought metal armoured Noszarel with whips. Arrazanal helplessly watched as a handful of Noszarel swung their long swords at the light armoured Nalashi, cutting them down in a single swoop. The Noszarel warriors weren’t as well trained as the Nalashi, but their advanced weaponry, armour and numbers sorely outranked the primitive southerners.
She watched in horror as Noszarel tossed small vials nearby the Nalashi archers. A familiar blue mist would burst from the broken glass, disorientating the warriors before they were executed. Her head hammered with their pain, shock and terror. The battle overwhelmed her senses. She could barely see the neck of the horned elk.
Dathazanal jumped from his mount and pulled the serrated whip from his belt, he grabbed Arrazanal’s wrist and yanked her off the saddle.
“Use your gifts, Arr. We can do this!” he said. He turned over to the horse and slapped its flank, sending it away from the battle.
“Nai, I can’t do this,” Arr said as the emotions of the dying were drowning her. She held her uneasy head, but her brother pushed her hands aside and pulled her closer to him.
“Yes, you can. Please do this so that another child won’t have to lose their parents!” he said. An arrow flew past Dath’s bare shoulder, leaving a thin cut along his muscles. In blinding speed, he released the black leather whip across a helmet of a Noszarel archer, shredding the headpiece in two. The archer staggered back, dropping his bow. Dathazanal released his whip again but missed the archer as he lunged for his bow, re-arming it with another arrow and pointing it directly at Dath’s chest.
Energy burst forth from Arrazanal’s hands. She pointed her palms to the archer, and a green ray of light exploded from them. The archer and his bow charred black from her potent power. He fell back onto the torn grass, never to rise again. Dathazanal looked to his sister in awe. His eyes were filled with joy as his thin lips curved into a toothy grin.
“The wilds protect you, sister! Bellemin I’aer,” he said before running off to the Nalashi warriors to assist in their defence.
Arrazanal tried to return his smile, but her cheeks felt like two boulders sitting on her face. She looked around the carnage. Something inside her soul almost wanted to embrace the chaos and feed from all the death around her. Was she meant to do this? She wondered. Pain shot through her body, she felt like there were sharp needles burrowing their way inside her skull. Arrazanal gripped her sore temples; she dropped to the soil and felt her energy being depleted. She looked to her hands; their green light began dimming until it faded into non-existence. She curled up into a ball; there was nothing she wanted more than to leave the battle. She wanted to awake from this nightmare.
As she almost drifted away, she spotted several people fleeing to the pier. There were several wooden cargo containers that were left open that appeared strong and sturdy. She extended her arms, grabbing the tough grass, pulling herself away from the battle. She looked around to see bodies already lying dead or injured, from both Nalashi and Noszarel. She dragged past a young Noszarel male. An arrow had found its way through his abdomen. He had been screaming for his mother, but no one had come to help him. Arrazanal considered for a moment to put him out of his misery, but she knew she couldn’t stop moving. She forced herself past him, trying to ignore his pain and fear.
Arrazanal kept her eye on the large container in front of her. Every time she pushed herself along the grass, the container got closer. She pulled herself into the shadowy container, there was a comforting heat coming from inside it. With one last look at the village centre, she tried sensing for her brother, yet he was nowhere in sight or mind. She gripped the edge of the cargo box and pulled the sliding lid down. The screams were muffled from inside the box, and they were quiet enough for her to fall asleep. She curled up and rested her pained head against the interior walls.
“Get that one, it’s the last one!” she heard someone call out from the pier. Her heavy eyes glanced lazily to the upper air openings of the cargo box. A shadowed figure came into view, blocking out the amber light from the fires in the distance. She heard metal chains encircling the container and a loud snap from a padlock. The box tilted along with her and lifted from the ground. She was being taken away. She wanted to call out to the strangers, to tell them she was there, but her mind wanted to leave her body, to go into a deep and joyful dream. Arrazanal surrendered to her own peace.