Emergence, Page 2

  “What happened to you?” she meekly asked. “When you left, so many thought you . . . ran away.”

  “I know, and though I couldn’t care a whit what they thought, I did regret leaving you without a word. The Freilux . . . well . . .”

  “What brother? You can tell me anything.”

  Toby sat for a moment in thought, then asked; “did you ever tell me of the Freilux’s roving eyes, his attempts at seduction on you?”

  Melissa blushed. “How did you know?”

  “Your mind isn’t trained sufficiently to conceal even something that embarrassing from me.”

  “So . . . what did he do to you?” she asked meekly.

  He took a deep breath, like he was about to take a deep and dangerous plunge. “You know the Freilux went to school with our father. They were close friends, from what I’m told, though I believe he always envied the fact that father would one day rule not only Imathrin, but the entire world as well. He was always a small man who envied those with power, even cursing them openly to try to make himself important. He soon became father’s chief critic, questioning his every policy, persuading nobles of the court to conduct inquiries into father’s dealings and policies. At every council session he would propose that father relinquish his power in favor of a parliamentary system, where many would rule instead of one.”

  “So when father fell ill,” continued Toby, “and could no longer run the affairs of state, the Freilux was nominated to run them for him. When father died, we were given over to the Freilux, as by the code at the time, I would inherit father’s title when I came of age and was pronounced a Provni Archsussa. But the Freilux hated me and everything I stood for. He beat me mercilessly, slamming my head into walls, breaking my bones on the marble floor, only to heal them a few minutes later, so he could break them again. He was determined to keep me weak, so I would never become an Archsussa, and father’s title would fall to him.”

  Melissa grasped his hand and squeezed, shedding a tear. “I’m so sorry.”

  Toby shook his head, and smiled, himself holding back tears. “At first, I wasn’t skilled enough to even make a firesphere. But little by little I learned, in secret, the ability to manipulate sussa, until I got to a point where I could make my own ribbon and escape. When I did, when I first stood in that grey void, I had a dual vision of apocalypse; in one of which all was laid waste and you were dead, in another all was laid waste, and you were alive, with me, and we commanded scores of men to stand against the Freilux. I knew I had made the right decision, because only if I left could I grow stronger, and marshal the forces necessary to break the Freilux.”

  She kissed him tenderly on the cheek. “I love you, Toby. Never leave me again.”

  He kissed her back, softly on her lips. “I never will, sweet Lissa.”

  Wiping away a tear, she asked; “so . . . what happens next? Do we attack the Freilux?”

  Toby flopped back and sighed. “I haven’t had a vision since I was near the Sphere. The Sphere somehow channels one’s power, focusing it. Without its presence, I have had to concentrate every hour of every day to increase my dexterity.”

  “Nemesnik!” shouted an aide outside. “Nemesnik, come quickly -- there is a transmission!”

  “Nemesnik?” asked Melissa, as they both scrambled to their feet.

  “One must have a title,” answered Toby. “One can’t go around being called ‘Toby’ by the rabble who follow him.”

  She followed him out, disturbed by how much the usage of ‘Nemesnik’ reminded her of ‘Freilux.’

  They gathered inside a large tent around a small, glowing bulb which hung by a thin reed-like stalk. The grey-uniformed Generals huddled close, with their aides conferring at the perimeter. Suddenly, a small, translucent figure appeared beneath the bulb; the Freilux.

  “He looks . . . thinner,” said Melissa. “What happened to him?”

  “The Sphere -- its effects on a skilled Archsussa can be quick and dramatic,” grumbled Toby. “Now listen.”

  “I, the Freilux, announce to all in range of my voice, that the apocalypse is over! Despite predictions of decimation and devastation, Imathrin has survived. I have assumed the title of Provni Archsussa, and work to restore our capital city to its former glory.”

  “I am aware of the many refugees condemned to harsh life on the surface, but even now I send out legions of ships to bring you all back! The Centric Sphere has been restored to the Cup of Allkthea, and with it I have stabilized Imathrin. We are recalling Archsussa from all across the ovoid to assist in the resurrection of the cities we lost.”

  “I promise, people of Iqui, that within three months time, you shall be restored to living in the skies, away from the frigid wasteland of the surface. The future is secure; we have weathered the storm, and it is time to sow crops and harvest our good fortune!”

  “What is he doing?” asked Melissa, as the Freilux’s image faded. “This is so . . . benevolent.”

  “He means to pacify and mollify our people with warmth,” replied Toby, with a crestfallen face, “kindness and sweetness, dull their wits and blunt their blades, so none would ever again stand against him.”

  “It is the most insidious kind of warfare,” added the arrogant-looking red-eyed General, whose name Melissa learned was Ruger. “No intelligent person would refuse the Freilux’s help, nor relocation back onto Imathrin. And once they have food in their belly, music in their ears, they will forget how the Apocalypse came to be in the first place.” Ruger glanced skeptically at Melissa. “And yet, we can do nothing without a third Archsussa. How long before she is ready?”

  “That is none of your concern!” snapped Toby, as his eyes lit with red fire. “You prepare your troops, and I will prepare my sister.”

  Ruger bolted to his feet. “We are all in this together, Toby, and I --”

  Toby motioned with his hands, twisting them in the air, and Melissa suddenly felt a pull like a whirlpool. Ruger’s aide was at the center of it, and as they looked on, his body collapsed in on itself until nothing remained but a bloody, foul-smelling smear on the ground.

  “I am the Nemesnik, and you will never challenge my word again!”

  Melissa could tell Ruger was a proud man who had fought in many battles, proved himself against formidable foes, but who also had the prudence and patience of a seasoned Battlemaster. For an instant she saw the fire light in his eyes, only to be dimmed a second later. Ruger hastily bowed low, and with the other Generals and their aides, swiftly departed.

  “What are you doing?!” screamed Melissa, beating on Toby’s chest with her small, bony fists. “Who have you become?”

  “I am doing what needs to be done. War is not the province of the boy, with an immature mind and vacillating commitment. It is only for men, who press on no matter the obstacle, until victory is obtained.” He grabbed her fists and pulled her close. “That is what is needed from you; to finally emerge from this life of a dilettante and take your rightful place in this world as a woman and Archsussa.”

  Melissa yanked away and sat down, her stomach in knots, confused about what must be done. She had never seen her brother kill -- not even father killed in her presence. But she had seen the Freilux kill many times, and their growing similarity scared her.

  Toby knelt by her side, his expression changed.

  “Lissa, I’m sorry you had to see that. But if I don’t act with strength, then others will seek to control me. We must think of father and his resurrection, before --”

  “Do you really want father back?”

  Toby recoiled at her words, cringing at their strength. “Father was a great man, and --”

  “He knew the Second Apocalypse was coming,” pressed Melissa, “and did nothing. He didn’t prepare me; he didn’t siphon off the Freilux’s power. He sat in his chair, growing thinner and older and stupider day by day, until he finally gave it all up to the one person who should never have gotten it. He could have stood up to the council, but he chose not to. And we
want to bring this man back?”

  “Father may have gotten . . . weak, in the end, but he was a great leader for much of his life. He knew answers to problems I couldn’t dare try to solve. No, we must have him back, restored to his youthful glory, if we are ever to bring our world any semblance of balance.” He smiled, and kissed Melissa on the cheek. “Now get a good night’s sleep tonight -- it will be the last you’ll have for a very long time. Tomorrow we begin your training.”

  As he rose to leave, Melissa asked one last question; “who is the other Archsussa?”

  “You’ll meet her tomorrow,” he said, as he walked out. “Her name is Yllinae, and she is my wife.”

  Melissa fell asleep, but it was filled with rivers of tears at the loss of her one true love.

  Yllinae was a short, rotund woman with a fat pock-marked face and a pale, thick hide for skin. She said she came from the levitating city called Ghunab, a small settlement close to the equator. Melissa thought she looked like something out of one of the zoos.

  Melissa was afraid and anxious about how she would be treated, but Yllinae surprised her by sitting her down, first thing, and speaking to her as if she were her mother.

  “Melissa, I tell you this now because it is the most important thing. You think you see Toby, and I, and other Archsussa, but you haven’t yet emerged. You still have the eyes of a commoner, and cannot divine our true form. For that reason, you must remember and follow what I say; never wound yourself purposefully. Never take a spike, or a blade, and draw it across your skin for the purpose of hurting yourself. We Archsussa can survive a lot, but when we draw our own blood, we place ourselves in mortal danger. Do you understand? I hope you do, because it is the most important thing I can tell you.”

  Yllinae was a strict taskmaster, and already had a training regimen created for Melissa that stretched over ten weeks. Each night had her scheduled to get less and less sleep, until finally she would only sleep one hour every four days.

  At night, after the first day, Melissa wept horribly in her bed. She cried near the opening of the tent, like she used to when she was younger and Toby’s room was just down the hall. But he didn’t come to hold her tightly and sing her a lullaby; instead she could hear him laughing with Yllinae in a tent up the hill. Further down the hill, voices of young boys could be heard singing a fighting song, and thoughts of boys and their charms filled her mind. A few weeks before the Second Apocalypse Melissa had caught the attention of Marcus, a nuvia player. She was even thinking of asking him out, as few boys approached her because of her title. So, eager for a little fun, Melissa wiped her eyes and scurried back in, settling before a small mirror. Quickly she gathered and arranged her long hair, and adjusted the clothing Toby had given her. It was a thick jacket and pant set, with little revealing or form-fitting. She was just beginning to fill out her dresses in a way boys would notice, and desperately wanted to capitalize on it. She worked to unbutton the jacket, and drew her hair down in front, along the sides of her face, in echo of how her mother would wear it. As she was about to leave, a tall figure loomed in the doorway.

  “May I come in?”

  She pulled aside the curtain, and found it was Ruger. She bristled at his presence, but felt she could not deny him.

  “Yes -- come in and sit down.”

  He carried himself solemnly, with dignity, dressed in an immaculately crisp and clean blue uniform, festooned with pewter medals and brilliant yellow and red jewels of distinction. She couldn’t begin to fathom how he managed to keep his uniform so pressed and clean out in the frigid wilderness, but it bespoke of his resourcefulness and devotion to detail. While she hated the things he said, she could see nobility about him that her father used to have before he fell ill. Sitting at a nearby chair, he asked; “why were you crying earlier?”

  Melissa dearly wanted to vent about her misfortune and would do anything, including lie to herself to see it accomplished. In her mind, she could see some vestige of compassion behind his stern expression, and let loose her floodgates of despair. “I . . . I just have a very difficult training regimen! My brother is different, I hate Yllinae, and I’m not allowed to sleep.” She exhaled, and wiped a few errant tears from her flushed cheeks.

  “Do you know how many people died in the Second Apocalypse?” rebuked Ruger. “Ten million perished in those fifteen cities. We, as a people, were almost wiped out. You sit in a camp full of people dedicated to restoring a balanced government to the survivors, willing to risk their lives to do so, and you complain over a lack of sleep? You are well fed, are with family, and when all is said and done, will be part of the ruling class. As for me, I lost one of my most trusted men when your brother capriciously demonstrated his power, and when this war is over, I will earn little for myself. I think between the two of us, I should be the one who is crying.”

  Melissa cowered into herself, mortified.

  “A suggestion is being floated that you wed the Freilux,” continued Ruger. “This would bring your brother back into the ruling house, and give you great power in terms of governance. I strongly suggest you commit to this proposal.”

  “No!” she hissed, pounding her little fists on the thin mattress. “All he ever wanted to do was touch and feel me. I’ll never share a bed with him!”

  “Again; you would live a luxurious life, save many lives and improve the welfare of others, in exchange for an hour out of your day pleasing a man you despise.” Ruger got to his feet, and straightened the crisp uniform that she now hated. “I think it is a very fair exchange. A very fair exchange indeed.”

  Chapter 4

  As Toby conferred with his Generals in the early morning, Melissa stole quietly out of camp. She wrapped herself in as many layers as she could -- even wrapping one of Toby’s oversized ermine cloaks around her -- and packed a good-sized sack with small but dense foods that she figured would last her for a while. For a moment she paused in front of the tent filled with the young soldiers she noticed the night before, and wished she could live a normal girl’s life filled with parties, boys, good girlfriends, pretty clothes and makeup.

  Why do I need to be here? Why can’t I just go home?

  She lingered a while longer, her gaze settling on a young, stubble-faced brown-haired boy. He looked to be a couple of years older than her, but at his side lay a long, angry-looking weapon. A few of her friends had already started kissing boys, and up until the Apocalypse she had hoped she would be next.

  I might die out there -- why can’t I just have a little fun? Why do I always have to be this title? She pulled her eyes away, and quietly followed the narrow path out of the camp. If I stay, then they’ll wed me to the Freilux, and no amount of kissing that boy will make that any better.

  Melissa wept bitter tears as she stood in a snow-covered valley, looking back at her brother’s camp. All hope of ever seeing her friends again lay back there, and any hope of sharing Toby’s company. Still part of her thought it could all be over in an instant, and she would be back home with her huffoi, sleeping in bed. Even now it was difficult for her to reconcile this new vision of Toby with the brother she knew before, and hoped it could all be some mistake. He was always the kindest, gentlest person in her life, playing with her endlessly as the long afternoons turned into night.

  Absently her hand went to the invisible wound on her arm, and it focused her back to reality. She turned and pressed on as a biting wind whipped around her.

  She hoped Ruger would pay, and in her mind she fantasized of her brother discovering her absence and finding out Ruger told her to marry the Freilux. She was warmed by the thought of her vengeful brother devouring Ruger in another whirlpool of gravity.

  The snow was thick, wet, and rose almost to her hips. Down into a low valley she half walked, half slid, slowly becoming more and more scared at the sheet of ice lurking beneath the snow. Twice she lost her footing and slid down, deep under the snow, her vision obscured by frigid whiteness. The valley yawned in all directions, and she worried if she s
lipped, that she could drown in an ocean of snow.

  Isn’t this what I wanted to have happen? she thought, standing in the white wilderness, unsure of where to place her foot. Where did I think I’d go? No one lives on the surface, and the settlers that did have surely been taken back to Imathrin. She grit her teeth, struggling not to cry. Why can’t I just go home? I just want to go somewhere safe, where I can laugh and play again. At that moment the storm abated, and in the distance on the other side of the valley a dark figure could be seen waving their hand high in the air.

  Could it be people actually live down here? She glanced back once more from whence she came. Would it really be that bad to go back? All it took was one memory of the Freilux cornering her outside her bedroom for Melissa to move swiftly on to the figure.

  Doubling back, she tried to walk on the outskirts of the valley in a path to where the figure was. Her legs were thin, and though she exercised regularly, it would be a difficult trek for even the most experienced of hikers and her small muscles weren’t quite up to the task. The valley appeared like a giant crater in the ground, the result of some massive impact. Carefully she tread; placing her feet with precision, trying to balance herself on the sheet of ice underfoot and against the increasing wind that drove pellets of ice into her coat.

  “You’re almost here,” said a familiar woman’s voice through the howling wind, “just keep moving!”

  As Melissa looked up at the figure, she lost her footing and slipped down into the crater. The snow enveloped her like a beast devouring its prey, and no matter how she clawed or kicked to try to get traction, she kept falling down the sheet of ice and into the center of the crater.