Freedom
The sun’s rays poured into the chamber from the floor length window. Von-wratha stood to its edge basking in its warmth. Her eyes wandered to the citizens of Giria below her room, watching the miner’s daily march to the deep caverns bellow the city. In the distance, her eyes caught a small golden orb to the horizon, the coming of the second sun. An event that took place once a year as a herald to the arrival of summer, the province’s harshest months. Her skin dried in the heat. Her black and navy robe hung around her shoulders, still untied at the waist as she pressed herself against the warm glass.
“Careful, someone might look up and see you,” Nalax’s husky voice whispered from behind. She felt his arms tug around her torso and his chin resting against on her shoulder.
“If it makes you feel uncomfortable,” she teased, pulling the robe over her chest and fastening the black belt in a neat knot. Nalax still kept his chin on Von-wratha’s shoulder, her cheek prickled with the buzzing of his thoughts. “Are you certain that the Council will free me from servitude?”
“I don’t see why they wouldn’t. You helped Giria and her people, that needs to be rewarded,” he said.
Von-wratha slowly nodded. “They would never let the ‘Black Blade,’ go,”
“If the Council refuses your freedom, you could make another request?” he asked.
Von-wratha pulled herself from his arms and faced him. “I’ve been Charr’s servant for long enough, I wouldn’t mind following another, if he’d let me,” she said gently running her nail down his chest.
Nalax smiled. “That can certainly be arranged,”
“I must warn you, Charr does get a little protective when someone tries to take what’s his,” she said.
“He is no threat, I assure you. The greatest threat this province has seen was eliminated only a few short hours ago. Rejoice in the knowledge that your skills might never have to be used again, Von,” he said.
The memory of the Heralds and the youngling returned to a deep corner of her mind. She stomped it out before they rose to the surface. She grinned and nodded her head before Nalax planted a peck on her forehead and offered his arm to her. “Shall we?”
“Let’s just get this over with,” Von said taking his arm.
A burst of light from his fingers that enveloped them opened a tiny wormhole that sucked them in. Von-wratha’s grip tightened as they flew through the airless space. She managed better with the teleportation sickness. Once they were pulled out of the hole, she took a breath, still clinging onto Nalax’s arm. The oracles sat on their thrones around the antechamber with snake-headed zealots standing between them, and Matron Aeos’s hunched form slumped on a stool beside Oracle Razza’s high throne.
Von-wratha noticed Oracle Charr nervously biting his lips as he watched her enter the centre of the room. They looked around the chamber to see other oracles having mixed emotions at her presence. Oracle Razza’s glare almost burned a hole in Von-wratha’s head. Something was wrong.
“Halt,” her voice ricocheted from the antechamber’s walls.
Von-wratha froze, she could feel every pump of blood running in her veins. Nalax stood beside her, releasing his arm from her grip before he swept a bow of respect. “Oracle Razza, I have returned from my mission,”
The room had a deafening silence. Von-wratha expected the guards to leap onto them both and arrest them immediately. She calculated how many armed zealots she could overcome without her daggers, but she could not see two of them running free from the antechamber.
Razza was a statue in her throne. Her crystal blue eyes shone like two moons. Her silence was felt.
“I was never under the influence of the Heralds. The Black Blade can attest to this fact,” he tenderly looked to Von-wratha.
“We do not share your confidence, Oracle Nalax,” Razza said as she leaned forward, with her gaze on Von-wratha.
“Look deep into our minds and see the truth that our loyalties belong to no one but to you, this Council and the mighty Twins!” he said.
“I have seen the truth already Nalax, but we’re not here to question your loyalties,” Razza said, fixating on Von-wratha.
She could sense all eyes in the antechamber on her, even eyes of the gods were on her at this moment. Her throat felt as if she was breathing fire down into her heaving lungs.
“The gods know everything that happens in their city. Did you believe you could hide that youngling under her dead mother?” Razza shrieked.
Von-wratha looked to a confused Nalax in desperation, begging him for some understanding. “She was scared…” her voice barely audible to her ears.
He turned away, “Oracle Razza, there must be a misunderstanding-.“
“There is no misunderstanding involving the gods work! The Black Blade has failed her duty and spat in the face of our ancient culture!” Razza roared. Her talon-like hands gripped the armrest of her throne with such force that the metal was bending beneath her strength.
“Most Honoured Razza, if I may have a moment with my serv-,” Charr croaked.
‘Mute your foul mouth, Charr! She is not like another one of your pets you can toy with and dispose of. She must be dealt with, appropriately,” Razza said. Her eyes held such ferocity that it made Charr shrink in his chair.
Nalax’s eyes searched Von-wratha’s face, slowly shaking his head. She looked into his golden eyes that now lost their shine. “You let one live?”
“We just butchered her whole family,” she whimpered.
“You’ve killed us, Von,” his voice cracked.
“Don’t shake your head, Nalax; this shouldn’t come as a surprise,” Matron Aeos’s husky voice haunted the antechamber.
“Imprison her!” A voice shouted beside Von-wratha, “Throw her in the Spire’s prison!” called another.
“I vote imprisonment!” Oracles around Von-wratha shouted one by one, but her focus remained on Nalax.
“And what is your vote, Oracle Nalax?” Oracle Razza purred.
“Nalax, please,” Von whispered.
He said nothing.
“Do you oppose our judgements?” Razza continued.
His unblinking eyes fixed on Von-wratha’s face.
“No,” his voice came like a knife to her chest, “I vote imprisonment.”
The faceless zealots around the room burst into motion and charged into a dazed Von-wratha; she didn’t fight or resist or even flinch on contact with their gauntlets.
“Take her to the dungeons until we decide her fate,” Oracle Razza called from her throne, “Von-wratha, send our regards to the Twins.”
Von-wratha’s body fell limp and finally allowed them to drag her away from the antechamber and away from them all.
~
Von-wratha listened to the air flying in and out of her lungs, the bubbles popping in her stomach and the hum of her ears screaming to hear for any kind of sound inside the cell. The sensory deprivation chamber’s lights would flicker on momentarily when food and water appeared, but the prisoner would have to feel around their tiny room for where their sustenance had materialised. Von-wratha tried counting how long she was there, but the numbers quickly slipped in her mind. To those who found themselves in these places, hours, days or months blurred into one. However, one thing was sure, none survived with their sanity after a prolonged stay.
The light flickered on. Von-wratha’s struggled to adjust to the sudden assault to her eyes. The first thing she saw was her bare feet, and her knees close to her chest. Her toes curled, and she listened to where the food dish might appear in her chamber but heard someone’s heart thump from behind. It took a moment for her to realise who entered the door-less cell.
“Von…” it was his voice; its sound drove a knife in her back.
She remained unmoving.
“I want to… I came to-.”
In one swift motion, she stood to face him. “What? What could you possibly want?” she spat.
“I w-, I need to know how you are,” he said softly. His shoulders slumped, his pearly white robe was ruffled, several strings of his maroon hair hung around his face, and his golden eyes were damp and puffy. He had shed tears.
“Hah, an odd time to be concerned for me,” she said,
“I’ve always been concerned, Von, for everyone. That’s the burden of leadership, I need to do what’s best,” he said.
“How can you say that? How’s this the best? You threw me in here like discarded trash. That’s something I’d expect from the Council or Matron Aeos, but not you…” she said as her body trembled.
“I understand why you let that youngling live, it’s horrible what we have to do sometimes. But you don’t understand what you’ve done. You’ve opened the way to a dark future,” he said.
“This place is already dark,” she said, crossing her arms.
“Before the Trials, I saw the Walls falling, hundreds of Girians being crushed by small buildings on wheels, a giant floating palace looming over the city and shrouding it in the night. A male was standing there overlooking the doom. It was Xolrin in the flesh, but there was another creature behind him. All in black except it had red eyes. It was you, Von,” he said.
Von-wratha sucked in the stale air as her hands wiped her face. She didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or cry. “Is this what you got from your Twins? It’s utter nonsense,” she whispered.
“I didn’t want to believe either! Razza foresaw this future too,” Nalax sighed and pressed his fingers against his temples, “you were going to destroy us, Von.”
“So now you’re going to execute me for something that might happen?” she said as she slowly walked over to him with her arms held open, “Nalax, the future hasn’t happened yet – it’s still me!”
He glanced at her arms and turned his head, taking a step back. “I know it’s still you Von-wratha, I had hoped you would’ve understood why we do what we do,”
She felt her heart pounding in her throat. “You’re leaving me again?”
Nalax opened his mouth but bit his lip. She tried to probe his mind for his words, but the cell made it nigh impossible for telepathic communication.
“Tell me this, are you going to…?”
He shook his head as he took another step back, the hem of his robes grazing the cell’s wall. “The Council has voted for your exile,”
“You’ll have me die out there? Not giving me the decency of a clean death?” she croaked as anger piled up inside her.
“I didn’t intend it, but their minds were already made-.”
Von-wratha flew into a blinding rage, she lunged at Nalax, but an invisible barrier halted her attack, and her fingernails clawed at the powerful shield inches away from him. His body jolted and pressed against the wall. His eyes were wide with shock and disgust.
“You’re weak, Nalax! All our lives, I had to look out for you, but where were you when I needed you to help me? When Aeos beat me, you turned away and said nothing. At the Trails, I awoke, and you weren’t there. When I was sent to kill you, I wasn’t going to because…” Von-wratha stopped struggling. The power of her heartbeat almost broke her ribs “I still loved you,”
“Your eyes are red.” he said.
“If I ever see you again, I’ll tear your head off. Get out and leave me again for the last time.” she hissed.
Nalax closed his eyes and combed his shaggy maroon hair from his grey face. He shifted straight on his feet. As a burst of light shrouded his body, he vanished from the room. Nalax left again. Von-wratha stood at the centre of her cell. Her fingernails ached from the invisible wall, which also left when he did. She waited in the lit room for him to return. A part of her hoped that he would break her out and together they would live free from the clutches of the Council. He didn’t come back. She always chased after him, hoping that he would see her affection, but not anymore – her heart was replaced with something demonic.
“Don’t fret, my fledgling, they will exile you by the first sun,” an old husky voice whispered across the walls.
Von-wratha’s nerves spiked as her head spun around the room, searching for Matron Aeos. Maybe this was her chance to take the wretched matron’s miserable life.
“Did you enjoy the show, Aeos?” Von growled.
“My fledgling, you’ve forgotten how much I hate questions!” Matron Aeos’s fist materialised in motion and impacted Von-wratha’s jaw.
The insides of her cheeks sliced open from her sharp teeth, and her jaw made a loud crack. She hit the ground and took immediate defence by using her forearms and legs to protect her face. Von-wratha hastily pushed her dislocated jaw back into her head as Matron Aeos stood over her. Her hood was pulled back to reveal a bald scalp and delicate wrinkles lining her ancient face with her eyes blistering red.
Von-wratha spat blood as her legs shook trying to stand ground; her eyes were locked on her former matron with her fists raised for another assault. “Don’t call me your fledgling, I don’t belong to you!”
“So, the spider wants to bite,” Aeos said. Her wrinkled mouth stretched wide to reveal a row of sharpened teeth.
Von-wratha formed her right hand into spear-shape and aimed into Aeos’s diaphragm, but the old Girian turned, and Von-wratha missed her entirely. Aeos’s foot arched up and kicked into Von-wratha’s ribs, sending her back to slam against the wall. Her instinct was to cradle her aching ribs, but this might have been her last chance to make Aeos pay for it all. She waited a moment as the hag moved in and then slid herself to the floor, ready to kick her in the pelvis. But with blinding speed, Aeos’ hands clutched Von-wratha’s foot and began twisting it until a sickening crack filled the room, followed by screams of agony.
Von-wratha recoiled her legs to her chest and wriggled herself away from Matron Aeos. She gripped her hanging foot while desperately trying to suck tears from her eyes. But they had come anyway.
“’ The Black Blade of Giria’, what a joke. You can’t even defeat an old female,” Aeos said as she slowly walked over to her former pupil, “your birth mother tried,”
Von-wratha shot a glare at her, but fear struck her as Matron Aeos bent down and tapped her wrinkled hand on her ankle. “She fought bravely to save her offspring.”
Her hands slid down and gripped Von-wratha’s blackening foot while placing the other on her shin. “For someone who never had a lick of combat experience,” Aeos smiled as if it were a fond memory, “to face a fully armoured zealot with nothing more than a needle to save younglings. Now, that must be true love, isn’t it? But love got her, and her family killed, didn’t it?”
Von-wratha’s foot went numb. She was ready to open Matron Aeos’ throat with her teeth if she leaned in any closer. “You butchered them as if they weren’t people!”
Matron Aeos’s head rose. Even with the little distance between them, Von-wratha could barely make out the hag’s face from inside her hood. “The Twins showed you?”
“Why didn’t you finish the job, Aeos? Was a babe too much for you to end?” she growled.
“Useless and stupid, as always,” Aeos hissed, “Let me tell you a story…”
“I don't care for any more of your lies, witch,” Von said as her jaw tightened from the pain.
“The Twins truth only. There once was a babe born in the dark caverns, the only light she knew were the fires burning in the caves in her first several years. Her blood family were followers of lesser gods, false gods like your heretic mother was. They strayed away from the Twins, believing that they were the chosen ones and it was their duty to bring forth their filthy doctrines. What they needed was blood, young blood,”
Von-wratha had almost forgotten her cracked ankle; her clenched muscles had made it impossible to move as she focused on her words. The matron released a single chuckle before continuing.
“They carried the youngling to lower part of the caverns, with only one torch. They gave her a pretty dress and bound her up. She lay waiting on the cold rock until they finished their song, she didn't know what they were saying, but she could hear metal scraping against a belt. She started crying, begging them to let her go, but their eyes were just empty. Before that blade struck her chest, she saw shiny scales in the dark, then the hiss of a serpent and their screams until silence. The serpent's yellow eyes turned to her and stared into her, and that's when she saw the truth,” Aeos sighed and slightly rose her hood. “The gods needed me so I could protect them, so they can protect us. Is it clear now?”
“You don't know what my mother would've done to me. She died trying to save me,” Von said, swallowing back tears.
“In those moments, I felt her love for you, but my blood family also loved me and were willing to throw me to something unreal,” Aeos’s hood slipped lower, covering her eyes, “but your mother needed to be punished for her crimes. They were all tainted,”
“People like you will never understand it. Your true love is power through the pain,” Von said.
“You misunderstand me again, daughter,” Aeos suddenly twisted Von-wratha’s lame foot, making another sickening crack back into its proper form. She pounded her back against the wall to dull the pain, but she could not suppress her scream.
“The Twins, for some divine reason, had shown you the ghosts of the past,” Matron Aeos wrinkled lips turned into a loving smile, “I dedicated my life to their service, but in doing so, I couldn’t have younglings of my own, and then they granted me you.”
“And you ravaged your only chance of ever calling me ‘daughter,’”
She looked down in disgust as Von-wratha clutched her swollen foot. “You were a waste of something truly special. And that opportunity in the caves amounted to nothing either,”
Von-wratha’s brows furrowed while still clutching her foot. “What?”
Aeos’ twisted smile returned on her flaky lips. “That youngling you spared. She was caught shortly after you were imprisoned,”
“No,” she whimpered.
“You are so pathetic,” Aeos said as her smile revealed her sharp teeth. “She wasn’t good enough for the Academy, but she did last several days to join the Twins,”
“When I see you again, Aeos, I will carve that smile into your head.” Von hissed as she tried to keep her breathing steady.
“Goodbye, Von-wratha.” Matron Aeos cackled. She pulled out an old fledgling black survival suit from her robes and tossed it on her chest. Von-wratha slapped the leather gear from her body as she watched Matron Aeos’s hunched form disappear into black smoke. Her laughter lingered in the cell until it turned to silence.
Finally, alone with her thoughts, Von-wratha massaged her ankle and tried gently to push some of her tendons back into place, but it was useless. She ripped off her sandal-straps to assess the damage and moved her hands to let them hover over the skin of her foot, then sensed a small pang of pressure on her ballooned ankle. She closed her eyes and focused all her anger into psionic push. The tendons twitched beneath her skin and started forcing themselves down back between her bones. Her rage surrounded her body, like a psionic cocoon slowly wrapping itself around her. Von-wratha felt herself getting lighter as she moved her ankle bones. Another push forced her muscles to relax, and her foot slowly returned from a bloated bruise to its normal size.
She turned attention to the surrounding cell. Her body was no longer touching the wall or the floor - she gently levitated in the air. She felt her lips curl into a smile and a laugh escaped from her mouth. The cell’s light began to dim, but Von-wratha laughed. Her body slowly levitated to the ceiling as all light snuffed into non-existence. The darkness returned to her.
~
The Black Walls seemed taller than ever being so close to them. The nigh-impenetrable structure could only be overcome by teleportation because of the dampening field around the city, allowing life to flourish unburdened by the harshness of the world around it. Drudging through the dry dirt, Von-wratha’s scrunched her sweat-soaked forehead as she observed the newer dark metal extensions closer to the sky and additional spikes across the fringe of the wall. The Council must have ordered it to be built. That morning, Von-wratha was quietly and quickly ushered by a squad of three zealots to avoid prying eyes from the Spire’s dungeons. The simple dirt track they walked lead to a small gateway that was unknown by the general populace. If they had known, then maybe people might be tempted to leave, even though the oracles mastered spinning a web of fear for all things outside Giria.
They had finally reached the gate in the wall. One zealot stood attentively at the incoming group and cocked his snake-helmet towards the gate. He looked to Von-wratha and nervously walked into the shadowed alcove; he waved his hand over a disk in the wall, lighting it up with red holographic symbols. The zealot bent his torso in front of the disk trying to hide the key-code. Von-wratha could sense his thoughts through the zealot’s scan-proof helmet. A chuckle escaped her lips because the young zealot couldn’t hold back his anxiety from her presence. He knew who she was.
The gate opened revealing the shimmering desert horizon. Her magnetic shackles cracked and loosened when one of the zealots touched them with their huge metal gauntlet. The other zealot carelessly threw a survival sack at Von-wratha’s stomach as she was shoved out of the gates from her old home. Her bare feet met the searing hot, parched grounds. She was beyond the protective barrier and now fully exposed to the elements of the province. Von-wratha almost jumped as the metal gate slammed shut and sealed behind her. She dared not turn to the high wall’s spine, because she sensed familiar minds looking down at her. She sucked in a big breath and swung her only possessions over her shoulders and made way to the distant Barrier Hills.
Her mind whirled and spun with the events before her exile. Von-wratha’s rage multiplied with each step to her new home away from Giria. She walked beyond the Sun Hills; she walked when the skin of her feet began blistering and popping open; she walked while the heavens continued their exchange of light and dark.
The desert horizon was no longer dead flat and endless. Within Von-wratha’s sight, she saw jagged mountain ranges in the distance. She halted beneath the beating sun to admire the view of the mountains, the infamous Barrier Hills where countless Girians ventured and never returned. A thought bubbled up in Von-wratha’s mind as she sucked on a leather water pouch: how did she travel from Giria to the outskirts of the Barrier Hills without the need of rest? This was curious. Yes, she remembered her needs for food, but her hunger was needed for something more devious. Von-wratha questioned if she was still even Girian anymore.
“If I have hatred and rage, then I am Girian.” she whispered to no one.
The skies made an ear-splitting screech. Von-wratha unsheathed her daggers and scanned her area for dangers: bosh-kag? Perhaps other Girians? A shadow swooped over her in a blink. Von-wratha felt a powerful gust of wind almost throw her off balance, and she looked up in awe to watch a giant winged beast. With another screech, the creature flew at magnificent speed towards the Barrier Hills and disappeared in the shadowed mountain ranges.
Von-wratha threw her empty water pouch aside and pumped psychic energy in her legs to chase after the monster before it vanished from sight. The energy her body held burst forth as she bolted down to the ever-growing Barrier Hills. The hill’s canyons were rough as if the land itself tried to protect the land’s denizens from what lay ahead. Von-wratha eased her psychic speed and scanned for any sign of the beast.
Another distant screech emanated behind steep sun-bleached boulders that would prove impossible to overcome without technological or psionic assistance. Fortunately for Von-wratha, this was a perfect obstacle to practice her new-founded power. She unleashed her anger and focused her psionic gifts to lift her body from the gravelled ground and then levitated over the boulders to reach safely to the other unknown grounds. What she discovered astounded her; there were old ruins of Girian structures that had been deserted for decades. Von-wratha glided through the old settlements in search of potential shelter. She discovered Girian skeletons crumbling back into the earth while some appeared as if they were partially chewed by wild animals.
Her psychic senses spiked from a potential threat. A thud followed by a loud hiss that came from behind as if to warn her she was not alone in this dead tundra. Von-wratha whirled around to face her opponent, but kept her daggers in her belt, with her arms stretched out and hands shimmering in red psionic power. The beast halted as it approached as if studying its meal; its mouth housed rows of pearly white jagged teeth; its gullet’s height was greater than Von-wratha and its bone-plated head wider than a Girian male. Von-wratha looked to the ground to see a half-eaten bosh’kag. This monster preyed upon the predators. She glared at the monsters long scaled neck stretched up to reveal its muscled chest and its winged forearms in a display of strength. Von-wratha felt her face crack into a smile and her eyes heat up. This creature was smarter than it looked, but unfortunately for it, she was stronger.
Von-wratha opened her chest with her glowing red arms stretched out. The red light in her hands grew larger with each throb of power. The creature’s serpent slit eyes focused on her red hands. It closed its maw, and it started to ease back onto the cliff-face, but she wanted to show her dominance. She honed on a loose boulder beside the monster, and her psychic energy reached out to release it from the cliff. The creature saw the boulder detach from the mountain side. Its hind legs shifted its giant body back and opened its wings ready to take flight away from her, but it was too slow. Von-wratha slammed the boulder to the side of the monster’s head. The impact cracked the monster's skull with a boom and with small clicking sounds some of the scales fell from the side of its large head to the dirt.
The creature released a deafening roar, lowering its broken head to the ground. Von-wratha stilled her attack, waiting a moment as the monster reeled back and finally opened its wings taking to the open air with its long tail trailing behind. Its winged form became smaller as it disappeared behind hazy grey clouds. Von-wratha’s psychic hold of the boulder wavered before slipping through her grasp. A small drop of sweat tickled as it rolled down her nose that stripped her concentration and the boulder came down with a crashing thud.
Sweat poured from beneath her arms. The desert dust clung to her body drawing more water from her. Gradually she was becoming lethargic. Her power might be able to absorb energy from many sources, but it couldn’t replenish her most basic needs. Von-wratha dropped to her knees and tore open her sack in search of water. Her trembling hands sifted through rags of leather and cloth, clay bowls and a pathetic collection of knives and picks. She flung her sack aside, dropping her head low and clutched her hand around her drying throat. The sun was reaching its highest peak in the sky. Like a god ascending to its throne, it heated the air burning everything below. Von-wratha was caught in a god’s fury.
With little remnants of her strength, she scanned for any lick of hydrating liquid within the canyon, until a vision of powerful blue waves rippled through her consciousness. She cocooned her body with the last bit of psychic energy and rushed to wherever this lifesaving elixir was, allowing her senses lead the way. A glorious wet smell seeped through her nose. She was close. Her mind and body tired as her feet fell through a wet and cold liquid. Von-wratha dredged herself deeper in the water spraying droplets before throwing herself in it. She drank and then continued drinking, rubbing her skin with its cold relief.
A small wave knocked her back, returning her to a sense of normality. Standing knee-deep in the waters, she wiped her wet navy hair from her eyes and scanned to the strange dark blue and endless horizon. Her thoughts raced. So, this is where she would call home until her dying days, or at least the Oracles hoped for it. After all the people and dreams she sacrificed, after all the moments of torment due to their mad fanaticism and after her most beloved friend betrayed her out of fear of being rejected by his precious Council. They made a choice that would cost them their lives.
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