Thick black smoke surrounded the area around where Izanami and Zane had fought. The children had terror in their eyes from what they had just seen. The teacher waited tensely for the smoke to clear, to see if her two top pupils had survived that devastating explosion. There was still no sign of life through the barrier of smoke. The students stood in absolute silence. The older Mages looked at each other, but did not say a word. They had looks of horror on their faces, unable to voice their dread of what they might witness once the smoke cleared. They were also stunned by what Izanami had just done. They knew what they saw, and they knew what Izanami had accomplished. But, never had they witnessed something to that degree.
One child broke the silence with a gentle whisper, “Are they… dead?” The other children shrugged. The teacher and the older Mages did not even acknowledge the comment. They stood waiting, waiting for the smoke to reveal life or death. The Mages that studied together had been doing so since they were six years old. Going through such harsh and intensive training and studying had created a strong bond between all of them. They were family. Now they were waiting to see if they had lost a brother and sister.
“I can’t take it any longer! Teacher, can’t you do something? What if they are alive but hurt, and we are sitting here doing nothing?” cried a female Red Mage.
“Hush, child! We must have patience,” the teacher admonished.
Finally, the thick black smoke began to clear and silhouettes of the figures could be made out. Zane had transmutated the clay from the ground into a wall, which he had reinforced by bonding the carbon atoms together in a mesh. The wall was virtually destroyed, and Zane lay motionless on the ground. About fifty feet from Zane, Izanami lay face down on the ground, also motionless. The moment their bodies were visible, the older Mages ran towards them. The teacher followed. The children silently watched from a distance. “Zane is breathing! But he’s badly hurt! What do we do, Teacher?” an older Mage shouted.
“Use your Red Mage abilities – use what you can from your herbalism studies to make sure he’s stable enough to move so one of the Elders can treat him!” ordered the teacher.
“Yes, ma’am!” said the students.
“And what about Izanami?” demanded the teacher.
There was a small group of older Mages around Izanami using every skill, ability, and knowledge of herbalism they knew. It was no use. Izanami was not responding. It was strange – her body was not badly wounded, yet she was not breathing. The Mages pleaded for their teacher to come aid them. Upon hearing the urgency in their voices, the teacher rushed over. “What is her condition?” the teacher questioned.
“Her body isn’t badly injured, mainly a few superficial cuts and bruises. But no matter what we do, we can’t get her to breathe; but her heart is still beating,” one of the Mages explained fearfully.
The teacher knelt down next to Izanami. She placed her hand over Izanami’s face and whispered an ancient chant. A small, bright white light glowed over Izanami’s face as she gasped for air. Her eyes opened halfway, but then they rolled back as she lost consciousness. “She should be alright for now. She’s breathing, but she has sustained tremendous mental trauma. It will take a lot more to kill this girl; she’s too stubborn to die,” the teacher muttered.
Once both Izanami and Zane were stable, the Mages were able to carry them to the Elder who specialized in herbalism. The entire village was in a state of astonishment from the explosion they heard. As they carried Izanami and Zane to the huts of the Herbalism Elder, everyone cleared a path for them. The silence was unsettling. The people who did not understand the ways of a Red Mage were frightened by how these young people could produce such energy and destruction. As they neared the huts of the Herbalism Elder, the Red Mage carrying Zane shouted out, “Great Elder of the herbs, we beg for your help! Our brother and sister have fallen in mock battle and we seek your wisdom in the healing arts.”
“And who do we have here?” said the Herbalism Elder, as he appeared through the doorway of one of the huts.
“I am Kuren, of the Red Mages, and Mori, also of the Red Mages. On our backs are Zane and Izanami, also of the Red Mages. Sir, can you please help them?”
“Bring them to the beds and set them down, young Mages!”
Kuren and Mori moved quickly to the thunderous command of the Herbalism Elder. The Elder examined the two unconscious Mages. He spoke to the other herbalism practitioners, who were clearly his subordinates. After a quick agreement on treatment, the subordinates began grinding an herb that developed an overpowering smell the more it was ground up. Once it became a paste-like substance, one of the subordinates added another herb that had been slightly heated and mixed the two together in a wooden bowl. The Herbalism Elder motioned for Kuren to come forward. “Take this paste and spread it on Zane’s swollen limbs, burnt flesh, and cuts, but be careful not to inhale too much of the paste or you may pass out,” the Herbalism Elder chuckled. Kuren took the bowl of paste. Almost instantly, Kuren’s eyes widened and he gagged from the appalling smell. Mori could not help but laugh. “Ah, Mori, you are still here. I have a job for you as well.” At that moment, Mori’s laughter subsided. “Go out to the outskirts of the village and bring me a Flos-foetida plant, but do be careful not to get your face too close when removing the plant, and watch the thorns!” Mori nodded and left to hunt for the plant. When Mori came back, the expression on his face was one of fright and shock. The subordinate herbalism practitioners began to cough wildly.
“It’s not that bad…,” Mori winced. The Herbalism Elder took the plant from Mori, plucked the leaves and handed Mori back the plant. “You only needed it for the leaves?! Why didn’t you tell me to just pluck the leaves? Instead, I pierce my hand with the thorns and get gassed in the face!” spluttered Mori.
“Well, Mori, the Flos-foetida plant is completely useless when the gas is in the plant. The only way to remove the gas is to uproot the entire plant. When the roots are exposed to the oxygen in the air, the gas is released from the plant. The release of gas is gradual, so that is why I told you not to keep the plant close to your face!”
Once the Herbalism Elder finished educating Mori on the Flos-foetida plant, he boiled the leaves in water and added a grass-like substance to the preparation. After filtering, he forced the unconscious Izanami to drink the liquid. “This is all we can do for them – they need to rest. It is up to their spirit and will if they shall recover, or not. You boys are dismissed,” the Herbalism Elder said.
Izanami remained in a coma-like state. Her spirit was still flowing within her but, outwardly, her body seemed like an empty shell. Nightfall had come and both Izanami and Zane showed no movement. Zane’s parents came to be by his side, praying that their son would recover from his devastating injuries. Zane’s entire body was swollen from bruises and broken bones. His flesh on his arms and torso had been burned dark red from the extreme heat of the explosion. Artemis stayed by Izanami’s side since Izanami did not have a family to watch over her. Artemis held Izanami’s hand, praying that she would return. “It’s not fair, she doesn’t deserve this. Why did this happen? Izanami, what did you do? You are the most talented Mage I know, how did things get so bad? You never fight to show off; you don’t fight to destroy… please come back Izanami,” Artemis begged her friend. Crying quietly, Artemis rested her head on Izanami’s stomach while holding her hand. Artemis would wait for Izanami to come back. She would not leave her friend all alone.
While Artemis agonized over Izanami’s precarious state, Izanami, herself, wandered in an abyss of darkness. This darkness, with no beginning or end, consumed her entirely. Her chest was hurting. It felt as if something had frozen her heart. She stopped suddenly. Where she stopped, the darkness was so dense it felt difficult to breathe. Izanami fell to her knees with tears in her eyes, and then sat cross-legged with her head down. “Where am I? Who am I? Why am I here? What do I do now?” whispered Izanami. She felt her hands shaking. “What did I do?” Izanami whimpered. Suddenly, a brilliant, pow
erful white light emerged in the distance and a distorted shape moved towards her from within it. She was too exhausted to move. She just sat, motionless, as the creature behind the light came closer and closer.
Chapter 3