CHAPTER 54
PANIC
Camella left early in the morning the next day. Kiethara tried to keep her for at least breakfast, but she was worried that her grandfather was missing her. She had never been away from him for more than a week and she did not want to preoccupy him with her further absence.
All the levity that came with Camella’s visit left with her, but Kiethara was proud to say that she did what Aaron had advised her to. She had enjoyed yesterday to the fullest: not one stray, depressing thought had crossed her mind. Now, however, she could not afford to waste any more time celebrating her temporary victory. Not if she wanted another.
A strong determination took over her that day and it held her for the next two weeks. It was almost refreshing to have such a drive. It gave her a sense of accomplishment that was strong enough to keep any fear at bay.
In the mornings, she devoted the early hours of the sun to physical combat. She started with her sword: up, down, left, and right would she swing her sword and strike, using a tree as a target. Of course, the tree itself held no challenge for her. Instead of trying to think of a way to make the tree fight back, she grew branches out of it in each and every direction. With her eyes closed, she marked the bark with the tip of her blade. After spinning around it to lose her sense of direction, she would spend the next few minutes jumping, rolling, turning, and dodging the limbs of the trees until she could find and hit the mark she had made before. It did not exactly stimulate a real fight, but it was nonetheless sufficient in toning her muscles and her mind.
That was not the only thing she did with her sword. She would run through the trees with it held high, but her goals changed every time she ran. At first, she would focus on not hitting anything. Once she succeeded in doing that, she would focus on striking everything.
After that, she put her sword down and practiced her true physical combat, even though she sincerely hoped that she would not have to resort to kicking and punching when it came to a fight. Still, it was a valuable tactic to know how to use.
By the time she finished with that, she was desperate for a break. She ate beans and vegetables for lunch, washing them down with about a gallon of water. She had no doubt that she had never been in better shape before.
The afternoons were completely set aside for magic. First was the earth element. This element was so natural to her now that she found it only necessary to train with it for twenty minutes each day. Really, she focused much of her time on water. After working up the right emotion, she pushed and pulled at the water of her lake, twisting it to her will. That alone took much mental strain, but she did not stop there. Aaron’s remark about her not finding the water had sparked her curiosity. She started in her clearing. At first, she did not know how to look for the water; it was not exactly hiding.
Soon enough, however, she figured out what Aaron meant.
It was there. In the soil, in the bark, on the petals of the flowers. She soon realized that she was not looking for giant pools or buried springs. The water was spread out over every inch of the forest in tiny droplets, or absorbed into permeable surfaces. Once she grasped that, all she had to do was surface it.
As much as she was proud of herself for figuring out the mystery, she did not particularly like her answer. It did not lead to a very large swell of water and, when she did take it, the forest’s response was ill.
The soil dried out quickly, leaving the grass to turn yellow. The bark of the trees became brittle and the flowers wilted. For what she got out of it, she did not think it was worth it. Thus she made the decision to use the technique in emergencies only.
By the time she was done training with the water element she was so frustrated that her schedule flowed effortlessly into the fire element. She taught herself to combine water with fire. Boiling streams of water were useful in any fight; she now could create steam if she ever needed cover.
Out of all the elements, fire was by far the most dangerous of them all. Even though she had complete control over it—at least in training—she could not stop herself from acquiring a good couple of burns. Sometimes it was impossible to keep track of the tongues of fire she made whip through the air. The tips of her hair were singed, as well as the tops of her arms.
With air she did not do much. What more could she do than make the wind howl? She could not see how to combine it with any other element and she already used her shield in every other part of her training.
She only had strength for a hearty dinner before she would pass out in her hammock. This cycle repeated uninterrupted every day for a fortnight before anything happened.
Kiethara wiped sweat from her forehead one afternoon, taking a deep breath before she allowed her hands to burst into flames again. Practicing the fire element at the hottest time of day had not exactly been her smartest idea. She didn’t want to stop, though. She had kept up the same strict schedule and she was not changing it now.
Narrowing her eyes, she focused on whipping great jets of flames through the heated air. She was reaching new distances—this time the tongue of fire reached out at least twenty feet.
“What a sight,” a voice wheezed from behind her.
The fire disappeared in the same second that her shield flew up. She had not been concentrating on her connection, but she was now aware of how two very faint presences were only a few yards away.
Durga and Markii had broken through the trees to her right. Durga was heavily leaning on Markii; Kiethara was shocked to see how frail she looked. Her wispy hair was very thin while the veins popped from beneath her skin, which was extremely pale.
“Durga!” she gasped, her shield disappearing. “What are you doing here? You look so ill!”
The old lady grimaced and waved her words away with an angry flick of her hand. Markii tugged on her elbow, a gesture she seemed to understand. She slid down the trunk of the closest tree and into the grass with a groan. She leaned her head back and closed her wrinkled eyes.
Kiethara looked up at Markii alarmed. He answered her gaze with a shake of his head. As always, his features were emotionless, so she could not deduce how dismal the conditions were.
She stood there with them for a good few minutes in silence, practically bouncing on her heels in concern and curiosity. If Durga was sick, there was no reason for her to be traveling to the heart of the forest. How could Markii have allowed that?
“Ah, that’s better,” Durga sighed hoarsely, opening her eyes.
“Do you need anything? Water? Food?” Kiethara asked, walking forward.
“I have water right here,” she murmured, reaching down and undoing her hip flask. She drank deeply from it before looking up.
“So how goes it, dear? How fairs the forest? Your eyes—ah, those eyes—have certainly seen more since my eyes last saw you. You do not look weak; no, you look strong. I’ve never seen such a built young lady. Have you, Markii?”
Markii just shook his head, his eyes roaming their surroundings.
“No, I didn’t think so. It would be considered an oddity anywhere else, but here I call it a blessing. A very necessary blessing. How else would I be able to sleep at night?”
Durga coughed loudly and then settled back against the tree. “So, tell us.”
Kiethara opened her mouth, but no words came out. For some reason, Durga’s constant chatter always left her speechless.
“Don’t hold your tongue, now, I’m dying to hear of your latest tale.”
Kiethara internally flinched at the word dying. Hopefully, that was not her condition…But if it was a tale she wanted, it was a tale she would get.
“Markii told you everything that occurred during his visit, correct?”
“Oh, yes!” Durga slapped her knee, chuckling. “What a story that was! I envied the dear boy for such an adventure. To fight alongside the guardian is such an honor! Though against that man Swallin, I think not so much. Illusions and trickery are for the weak. Look at what happened—that just proves my words. He had no real skill as a war
rior and, when he was forced to act like one, he faltered. You must give me your account on the fight—Markii is not very giving on the details.”
“Really? It was he who landed the final blow.”
“Not necessarily,” Markii interjected, still not looking at them as he observed the trees. “You rendered him incapable.”
“By setting him on fire.”
“And what does that matter?”
“Everything,” she said, rolling her eyes. “That was all I could do. You used some decency in your strike by ending it quickly.”
“Ah, I believe I have the full picture now,” Durga said. “I bid you worry not, child. Together the two of you brought him down, using tactics you knew wisely.”
“Thank you,” Kiethara said, cheeks reddening.
“It’s good he is dead,” she continued. “A powerful trick like that could harm a lot of people. Imagine if he made an illusion of a king to one of these kingdoms? He could create endless panic with one shadow, or take control of an entire nation with a single visage. We can only hope that his black art dies with him. I fear that is the only thing that will keep us safe. Yes, you did very well to kill him.”
Kiethara blinked, surprised. She had never considered the different possibilities of Swallin’s powers. Durga’s words opened a whole new realm of horrid possibilities.
“That’s a fair point,” she mused, crossing her arms. “That might explain why Gandador seems to take over the kingdoms so fast. Slyness and deceit have always been his favorite tactics.”
“Do you think Gandador knows how to manipulate magic in such a way?” Durga asked. “I’ve heard many stories about that man, but never ones of him using any type illusion.”
“I don’t think so,” Kiethara pursed her lips, distracted. “What stories have you heard about him?”
“Oh, he’s a hot gossip,” Durga answered, waving her hand. “Most of it is pish posh, of course, but there were a few that raised the hairs on the back of my neck! Everyone knows that he mostly resides in Nikkoi—that kingdom is nearly vacant now—and they like to speculate what he’s doing there. It’s not exactly a castle, more like a barn. Let me ask you, if he has so much power, why is he bunkered down in that hole?”
Kiethara shook her head.
“Exactly! So some believe that Nikkoi is where he was born. They say he was born to a widow. When the widow saw what a horrible creature she had given birth to, she threw him down a well. But there was something in that well—something sinister and intoxicating—that stopped the child from dying. Dark magic. The child grew up in the tunnels, using the power that he had stumbled across. That’s why he’s so evil.”
“Do you believe that?” Kiethara asked in doubt.
“Ah! I’m not finished yet. The reason he is in Nikkoi again is because of that hidden power. He alone knows what well to travel down, what tunnels to crawl through. They say under Nikkoi is his real kingdom, which one day he’ll unleash on us like fires from hell!”
Kiethara blinked.
“A little dramatic, I know, but the general idea is plausible. Why else would he tie himself down there? Why not for a past influence or a guarded secret? Out of all the rumors out there, this one has something. Don’t you agree?”
“I can’t disagree,” she hedged. “Honestly, the issue has never crossed my mind. I don’t hear the things you hear, though I am greatly appreciative that you tell them to me. I’m not aware of the panic he creates outside the forest.”
“Panic,” Durga repeated, coughing. “That’s the perfect word. Do you remember when I told you what your name meant?”
“Er…yes,” Kiethara answered, not sure how relevant that was at the moment.
“Well, Gandador’s name has meaning, too. ‘Ganda’ means gallop. ‘Dor’ means determine. So, in short, it means determined gallop, or to gallop determinedly. When a horse gallops through the land, what does it create?”
Kiethara thought long and hard, but she could not answer. There were a few wild horses in the forest, but nothing happened when they galloped. She had never seen a horse gallop in the kingdoms.
“Panic,” Markii answered bluntly, surprising her. She had not realized he was listening.
“Exactly, good boy. Panic. A horse gallops to deliver urgent messages, to flee from pursuers, or to attack an enemy. Nothing good comes from a galloping horse unless it is matched with the sound of trumpets!”
“So that’s what he is? A galloping horse?” she asked, half amused, half intimidated.
“Mhm,” Durga murmured. “And for a galloping horse to settle in one state seems very unlikely. It has people on edge. They are waiting for…the horse to break into a gallop again, just as he did all those years ago.”
Durga paused to cough heavily. “I’m rather proud of that conclusion, aren’t you, Markii?”
“It accurately describes the mood of the people,” he allowed.
“Well, they won’t feel this way for long,” Kiethara vowed. “The reign of Gandador will end.”
Durga was silent; her eyes gazed up at Kiethara and scrutinized her.
“I hope you mean that,” she said sternly. “Once he reined a horrible yoke on many people and then for a decade he hung low and corrupted his fellows. When we thought he was done and too old to move, he was training himself as well as others. Whatever scared him in this forest all those years ago sparked a thirst for revenge that I have never seen before. This time, when the guardian says it will end, please let it end.”
“I-I…of course,” Kiethara stuttered, surprised by the intensity of her words.
“Good,” Durga wheezed. “I shall have Markii check in on you. Unfortunately, I don’t believe I’ll be able to manage travel to the forest any longer.”
“Durga,” Kiethara whispered, dropping to her knees in front of the old woman. “What’s wrong? Is my potion not working?”
“No, that’s not the problem,” Durga chuckled softly. “I’m sure it works fine.”
The old lady rummaged a hand in her beaded shawl and removed a small glass bottle. The cork was still sealed, the gold liquid still dancing inside. Kiethara understood in a heart beat.
“You didn’t!” she exclaimed. “I gave you that potion to use! I have no need of it!”
“At this moment,” Durga replied calmly, using Aaron’s argument.
“I could always make some more!”
“In what bottle? And why waste such valuable time and magic?”
“Take it now!” she urged. “Then I will still have the bottle!”
“No, child,” Durga replied sternly. “This is not a matter by which I can be persuaded or tempted. In case anything does happen, I do not want to be responsible for the guardian’s fall because I left her unprepared. Could I bear such a shame onto my name and family? Never! Listen, my dear, this is not something you can cure.”
“What is it?” she asked. “What are you suffering from?”
“Dear, this is no disease,” Durga almost laughed. “My illness is old age; my remedy is death. My soul has worn its body through and through; it is time for it to find a new home.”
Kiethara gaped at her, unable to comprehend what she was explaining.
“I know it seems unbelievably to you to consider death so lightly, especially since the sole purpose of your life is to survive; however, there is no consequence in the prospect for me. I have no complaints, besides my numerous regrets, and I feel it is my time. Markii is tired of carrying me around anyway, I believe.”
Markii made an untranslatable grunt.
“Please don’t say this!” Kiethara begged, grasping her hands. “I don’t want you to die!”
“Thank you. You must not be worried or sorrowed by nature’s curse, though. To tell you the truth, these bones ache terribly, until the point where living is more tedious than the grave. Do yourself some good, take this bottle from me, and do not forget your promises.”
Durga pushed the small glass vial into her frozen hands and closed her
fingers around it. Kiethara numbly squeezed her fingers around the cool glass and stood up.
“Help me up, boy,” Durga barked, and Markii pulled her to her feet. The old lady groaned and coughed violently.
“A good talk. Enough to give me hope for the future. You’re doing fine on your own, it seems.”
“I could do better,” Kiethara said in a low voice. She seemed incapable of any other volume.
“You could do no such thing. Now, we must part before the sun gets low. Let reason guide you. Markii will return soon and, when he does, make use of him,” she paused, squinting up at Kiethara. “It was an honor to know you.”
“Same to you,” she whispered back through a constricted throat.
Durga turned and they began to depart. As they walked away, Kiethara heard Durga lean towards Markii and say:
“I will never forget those eyes.”