Mira woke up covered in layers of cloths and sand. She rubbed her eyes, unsuccessfully trying to remove the insidious grains of sand from the folds of her eyelids before opening them. Fire-in-the-sky, though not yet visible, was already flooding the dunes with scarlet light. The air was getting warmer, yet Mira could not get herself to stop shaking from the freezing cold of the past night. She took a few deep breaths and willed her body to sit up. She pushed the several layers of fabric away and took a look around her. As every morning since they had stepped through the portal, she felt vastly overwhelmed by the daunting emptiness surrounding them. Wherever she looked, she could see only sand. Miles and miles of sand in all directions. Almost all directions. She turned her head north, towards the only thing that dared disturb the desolated landscape: a massive tower visible in the distance. The tower was so far that it looked nothing more than an impossibly high grayish silhouette. Mira had no idea what this tower was and neither did anybody else from the group. But since there was nothing else around, a few minutes after exiting the portal, they had all tacitly decided the tower would be their destination, their escape from this hostile and sterile land.
They had been marching toward the tower for 7 days now and it didn’t seem any closer today than 7 days ago. Instinctively, Mira reached for the familiar shape of her bag, feeling its content through the thick cloth. She had gone through half of her supplies which meant if they didn’t reach their mysterious destination by the end of next week… Mira shook her head as if to get rid of her grim worries and loads of sand fell off her short hair. She turned her attention toward the rest of the group. 7 days ago, 62 of them had entered the portal. As per the law, every each of them was a child from a high priest or a high lord. And each one between 15 and 20 years-old. Now only 51 remained. The first 5 had died the very first night. The poor boys had not packed enough to protect themselves from the freezing night and in the morning, their heart was no longer beating. Since she usually woke up before the others, Mira had been one of the first to discover their bodies. She clenched her jaw remembering the small group of skinny followers of the Land lying dead in the sand.
Mira chased away the painful memories and tried to focus on the group. Only Tristan was standing. He was looking around for anything out of the ordinary. He turned to the east where fire-in-the-sky would soon rise. He was probably pondering whether he should wake up the rest of the group. On the one hand, now was one of the rare time of day when the temperature was acceptable and God knows their group needed the sleep. On the other hand, they had limited food and water supplies and should cover as much ground towards the Tower as they possibly could while the lights were out. She could read the hesitation on his face. As if he had felt Mira’s gaze, he turned towards her, and they locked eyes for a second. Then all traces of doubt vanished from his expression. Since the beginning of the journey, Tristan had worked hard to never display any sign of indecision. And he was right to do so: leading a group of teenagers to their very likely death in these nightmarish lands was a delicate task. Tristan drew out his sword, pulled a piece of metal from his bag and started bumping one against the others. This was the traditional warrior wake up. The two dozens of warriors around Tristan quickly emerged from sleep and started packing efficiently. A few paces away, the red priests from the Church of Light heard the signal, rushed to their feet and hurried to get ready. The Brown priests from the Church of Land had a much harder time. Due to their mystic connection with animals and plants, brown priests only allowed themselves to consume barely enough food to survive. In practice, it meant most Followers of the Land were almost sickly slender. In these ruthless sand dunes, their poor physical conditions had already cost them almost half of their members.
The warriors and the followers of Light got ready quickly and now stood waiting for the remaining brown priests. As usual, as soon as his group was ready, Jarod, the leader of the Red priests started pacing with impatience. Every time, it enraged Mira /We’re about to march all day under the burning light of fire-in-the-sky and he wastes his energy pacing./ Since the beginning of the journey, Jarod and the other red priests had not concealed their despise for the members of the other church. Jarod was an average size, solidly built man with impossibly thin lips. He constantly wore a severe expression frowning his thick eyebrows at a surprisingly steep angle. Mira loathed the man. She was sure he would have long abandoned the few remaining brown priests if it had been up to him. Probably right after stealing their meager supplies. Fortunately, Tristan would not let that happen and Jarod would not dare defy his authority. Not as long as he had support from the rest of the warriors. A group of Red priests could be dangerous, their ability to produce and manipulate fire was a highly potent weapon, but these priests were too young for that. It took long years of study in their isolated temples before a priest of Light could summon and manipulate fire quickly enough to be a threat to anyone but themselves.
Mira was still lost in her thoughts when they finally began the 8th day of their journey toward the Tower. She turned her head to the east and shut her eyes at once. Fire-in-the-sky had woken. She felt a drop of sweat falling in her eyes. /The first of many today/ she thought. Back in the realm, nobody knew for sure what expected the ones that entered the portal. About the land itself, some stories described freezing white landscapes while others spoke of high mountains spitting fire where the soil itself would boil from heat. /They were both partially right it seems/ Mira thought: burning by day, freezing by night. She didn’t know how it was even possible.
On the contrary, almost all tales of the portal mentioned hordes of monsters attacking the travelers. On this point, the stories all agreed, their would be monsters to fight. Well, so far, the stories couldn’t be more wrong Mira thought. /All these years of training. No life, no friends, just training with this fucking sword to prepare for this/. Mira raised her eyes, everyone looked exhausted marching face down to avoid the light. /And all we do is walk. We don’t even know where to/. In a way, she almost hoped monsters would care enough to show up.
Mira and her companions had been incredibly unlucky to be born when they had. Every 40 years or so only, during the five “sacrificed years” every new-born baby was marked as a child-of-the-portal. Fifteen years after the last sacrificed year, all children-of-the-portal would enter the portal. Only one would come back. The others were assumed dead. The most grandiose funerals were organized for them. For a whole month, the whole kingdom would mourn the sacrifice that the children of the most powerful families in the realm had made. They had all died for one to come back. As if rewarded for the sacrifice of the others, the-one-that-came-back– as he was often called– had been granted extraordinary powers. Nobody knew how it happened, but each man that had ever returned from the portal had more mystic power than all the followers of Light, Land and Spirit combined and not a single memory of what had happened beyond the portal. This tremendous power was the only thing that saved the armies of the realm from being overwhelmed by the Child-Eaters in the north and those Black-Skin savages in the east. The-one-that-came-back would then join the old King to learn how to master his newly acquired abilities and replace him when he died. It had been that way for centuries now. Every time the King reached the age of 60, a new batch of noble children from high priests and high Lords were sent through the portal.
Of course, none of this should have mattered for Mira. As far as history went, no woman had ever returned from the portal. That’s why, during the five sacrificed years, almost all female new-born from noble houses were drowned right after birth. There was obviously no written law about it, but every noble and priest respected the gloomy custom. For this reason, when Mira’s mother gave birth to her first child, her husband had reluctantly taken the crying baby off her arms, towards a bath the servants had prepared for the occasion. According to the stories, that’s when her mother had begged him to spare Mira with such incredible passion that he had conceded. That’s the story Mira had been told. The story that had defined her whole life. To the small noble world, she was the girl that shouldn’t have lived. And her father was the man weak enough to let it happen. Mira had been an outcast all her life, so even here, so incredibly far from their homeland, and even though they probably had only a few days left to live, she had isolated herself. The travelers walked in 3 distinct groups. The warriors, the red priests and a few paces back, the followers of the Land, struggling to keep pace. Theoretically, as a high Lord child and given her training, Mira belonged to the warrior caste. But the young Lords all knew each other from the Academy and her father had always refused to let her join the famous fencing school. /They probably wouldn’t have let me in anyway/ she thought. Instead, her father had decided to train her himself. She could have introduced herself, or at least walk or set camp near one of the groups. Part of her wanted to. Her whole life she had silently dreamed to have a life of her own, meet people outside of the awkward nobility events in which she had to appear. Today, all she had to do was walk towards one of the others and start talking. Yet, in seven days, she had not spoken a word out loud. /And nobody has come to me either/ she thought bitterly. Mira wished she could convince herself that this situation had nothing to do with her personally. She really wanted to believe her isolation was simply the natural result of her being the only girl in the group. Except she wasn’t. There was one other. Mira raised her eyes and quickly searched the group. She easily spotted her. With her ridiculously large hat and immaculate white cloths, she popped out like a clown at a funeral. Shanti. Mira had heard her name whispered countless times by the men around. Shanti was the living proof of Mira’s social inadequacy. While being as much of an outsider as Mira, she had managed to charm her way through everyone’s heart. She constantly moved from one group to another, ever cheerful and enthusiastic, leaving behind her a trail of smile and laughter. It seemed to Mira that she always knew what to say. Many times, some of the boys had been more than inappropriately straightforward with her. In these situations, Mira was sure her own face would have turned as red as the red priests’ robes and she would have drawn her sword as an answer. Yet somehow Shanti always eluded men’s unwanted attentions with grace and humor, conceding nothing while leaving their fragile ego unharmed and their desire, burning even brighter. In many ways, along with the strong and practical leadership of Tristan, Shanti was one of the only things that held the group together. Mira, was well aware of all that, yet since the beginning of the journey, she had fostered a particularly intense hatred for the girl. Shanti represented all Mira had fought against during her short life. She was everything a noble wife of the realm was expected to be. She looked pale, fragile, beautiful yet modest and she covered her mouth when she laughed. Everyday, one of the young lords would offer to carry Shanti’s bags, she would put up a fake fight and eventually let the fool carry the load for her. All this sickened Mira even more than Jarod the Red Priest and his stupid eyebrows.
Mira lowered her eyes bringing her focus back to where she was walking. /How is it that I somehow always manage to find reasons to hate people even though I interact with no one?/ Such was the question Mira was reflecting on when Tristan raised his hand to call for a halt. A wave of whispers followed his silent order until everyone had ceased to walk and stared at the scene happening near the group of brown priests. Tristan crouched by one of the young priests lying still in the sand. /Another one/ Mira thought, furious. /Dead on this stupid walk/. Looking more closely though, Mira saw the young brown priest’s chest moving slightly. He wasn’t dead. Not Yet at least. Mira noticed someone moving briskly in the crowd. She was surprised to see Shanti, rushing towards the body. She pushed away the others and sat by the poor priest’s side. She touched his chest with assurance, moved her ear next to his lips then shove a hand in his mouth for a couple of seconds. She raised her head and asked for the priest’s bag. While the other priests went searching for his bag, Mira and the others moved closer to the scene. The priests finally found the bag and handed it to Shanti who unceremoniously shed its content on the sand. She picked up the only two flasks of water that had been in the bag. /Only two flasks!/ Mira thought. /No way he could have survived all this time with two flasks/. Then, Mira understood. He had thrown away the rest of his supplies to lighten the weight of his bag so that he would be able keep up with the rest of the group. Shanti checked the content of the flasks. Not a single drop remained. She turned to the other priests and asked: “Did you know?” The other priests looked ashamed and disoriented. The oldest looking priest took a step forward: “No we didn’t”. He made a small pause then he felt he had to add: “Had we known, of course, we would have given him from our own!”. But Shanti was no longer paying attention, she was trying to get the unconscious priest into a sitting position and without looking at anyone in particular she shouted: “someone bring me water now! hurry!”. Everyone stirred at once as if released from a spell. Some of the boys in the front were already handing their containers to Shanti when a voice resonated above the noise: “No”. All whispers ceased and everyone turned towards Tristan. He seemed sad but when he started talking, his voice was loud and clear.
“The kid knew he was out of water. He knew and chose to say nothing. It means he thought it best to die than take the water from his brothers’ mouth. It’s his choice as a man, his sacrifice to make and we must respect it”.
A complete silence fell upon the gathered assembly. Everyone was perfectly still. As discretely as possible, Mira started scanning the crowd. The tension was such that nobody dared moving. /If anyone had in mind to question Tristan’s authority, it would be now/. Mira thought. She turned toward the red robes searching for Jarod. He was nodding, obviously agreeing with Tristan’s decision. Then, Mira sensed something stirring on the periphery of her vision. Slightly further to her right, Aliris’s hand laid on the pommel of his sword. His eyes glowing in rage. Mira turned toward Tristan. He was looking right through the crowd straight towards Aliris. /Of course, he expected it could happen/ Mira thought. Aliris and Tristan had been notorious rivals throughout their whole time in the academy. Every tournament Mira had attended as a spectator ended with Aliris and Tristan in a final duel for the trophy. And Aliris never won any of these duels. Tristan did not reach for his sword. He answered Aliris’s furious gaze with nothing but calm and cold determination. The crowd around them shifted ever so slightly to get out of harm were the two swordsmen to release their weapon. None of them said a word. They knew it wouldn’t help. Tristan was rational and fair, but once he made his decision there was no trying to change his mind. And Aliris…well he was all fire and passion, “fighting with his heart instead of his head”. That’s how Mira’s father had described Aliris at one of the tournaments they had watched together. So talk would probably not help. But maybe Simon would. When everyone had retreated away from Aliris, Simon had stayed by his friend’s side, directly facing his own brother. Simon was the younger brother of Tristan. The two siblings did not get along. That much was public knowledge. What Mira had only discovered during the last eight days was how close Simon and Aliris were. Mira could see the conflict on Simon’s face. /He’s afraid/ Mira thought. /He’s afraid for his friend/. Then Simon delicately laid a hand on Aliris’s forearm. For a second, Aliris did not react, then, reluctantly, he withdrew his hands from the sword, turned his back to Tristan and walked away. The accumulated tension released as soon as Aliris had left. The crowd dispersed slowly, silently discussing the events that had just unrolled. Mira however, did not release her attention. The conflict was not entirely over. Simon, was staring at his older brother. To Mira’s surprise, Tristan lowered his eyes. /Ashamed. Tristan is ashamed/. Mira had seen this expression countless times in her life: on her mother, when she would happen to see all the bruises and cuts her father had inflicted her during the training. And even on her father himself, when he realized he had gone too far. But Tristan was a rock. He was barely capable of doubt, so shame? /I really wonder what happened between the two brothers./ Finally, Mira focused her attention back to the original reason anything had happened in the first place. It seemed everyone had forgotten about the poor brown priest lying in Shanti’s arms. For a second, Mira thought she saw a single tear reflecting the light on Shanti’s perfect cheeks. Then Simon walked away, and Tristan turned to the group of brown priests. “I’m sorry” he said. The followers of Land did not answer. They took their brother from Shanti’s arms and walked away. If they gave him water now, everyone would know that they had defied Tristan. So they were doomed to leave their young brother behind to die alone in the sand. Tristan gave his hand to Shanti. She took it, and pulled herself up. For a few seconds, Tristan stared at Shanti in silence. /He’s asking for her approval/ Mira understood. Then Shanti smiled lightly and laid a hand on Tristan’s arm “I understand” she said. Then she walked past Tristan and judging by Shanti’s face, she definitely did not understand.
The rest of the day went on without any more notable events. The spirit was rather low but as usual, Shanti worked her magic and by the end of the day, it was as if nothing had happened. They finally set camp, warriors, followers of the Land and followers of the Light, each gathering a few paces away from one another. As usual, Mira set camp apart from the others, yet closest to the warriors. She laid the thin carpet she used as a mattress then took out the several layers of fabric that would protect her from the night to come. Then, she finally sat down. She had just walked a full day under the ruthless light of fire-in-the-sky. Her face was so burned, she had blisters on her cheeks and forehead and, of course, even more blisters on her feet. And she knew she would spend the night shaking from cold. This march was a torture. Yet now was the part of the day Mira dreaded the most. She closed her eyes and waited. Then the screams started. Every ten seconds, steady as a clock, the sound of seventeen whips biting the flesh echoed in the night, immediately followed by screams of pain. Mira opened her eyes. The camp of the followers of Light was glowing in the early night. Red flames were flickering unnaturally in the air, surrounding the red priests in their red robes, casting long shadows in all directions. They were all holding a whip in their left hand and used it to lash their own back. Each time the whip met the flesh of their back, the summoned fire around the group shone more brightly for a fraction of second. The rhythm was almost hypnotic. Whip, light, screams. The first nights she had witnessed the scene, Mira had felt an overwhelming and undirected rage. Now, she just felt sick. /Why?/ Mira thought. /Aren’t we suffering enough?/
“They believe pain purifies them.”
Mira turned at once towards the voice. Shanti was standing not five meters away from her. She had not seen or heard her coming, focused as she had been on the priests. Mira stared back at Shanti in surprise. For once, the girl was not wearing her hat. Her long hair were freely flowing around her slender figure. The shimmering lights from the priest’s fire colored her pale skin and white robe with ever-changing nuances of yellow and red. In the distance, Mira heard the steady beats made by whips and screams, once, twice, then Shanti, smiled lightly, raised her eyebrows and spoke again.
“May I set camp next to you?”
Mira nodded discretely, Shanti’s smile widened and she started unpacking. Despite herself, Mira felt irrationally thrilled that someone, had finally approached her after eight days walking and sleeping alone. Even Shanti. /I didn’t know I needed it that much/ she reflected bitterly. Mira realized she was still staring blankly at Shanti and had still not answered her first comment. What had the girl say? Ah yes the Red Priests.
“From what should they be purified?”
Shanti finished unpacking her mattress and blankets for the night, then started to take out food from a second bag.
“Sins.” Shanti scowled as she said the word. “It could be anything. they didn’t hurt themselves intensely enough last night, they felt ‘weakness in their faith’… who knows.” Then Shanti sat down looked at Mira, and smiled playfully. “Or maybe, they looked at you and me and it triggered some ‘unholy’ thoughts in their heart.” Mira felt blushing but fortunately, given the amounts of burns she had on her face she doubted Shanti would notice.
“I don’t think I could trigger any unholy thought” Mira answered. She had intended it as a joke, but out loud, it sounded more like self-pity. Shanti paused for a fraction of second then laughed politely and changed the subject.
“I’ve been meaning to chat with you for a while, but you’ve been staring daggers at me since the beginning of the trip.” Shanti was smiling mischievously. “So what have I done to deserve the death stares?”
Mira turned her head. She had found dozens of reasons to hate Shanti these last days, but they suddenly all seemed pretty insignificant right now.
“Nothing about you really, I send death stares to everyone”. Then Mira smiled and her smile turned to a grimace as she felt some of the blisters on her cheeks opening. Shanti laughed quietly, but kept on staring at Mira, still expecting an answer. So, reluctantly, Mira searched the internal list of grudges she held against the girl and picked one.
“Everyday, you let one of the boys carry your bags.”
Shanti raised her eyebrows, obviously failing to understand how this simple statement could justify Mira’s resentment. For some reason, the fact that Shanti did not understand, awakened some of Mira’s anger.
“By letting them carry these bags for you, you’re validating the idea that women are weak and dependent and must be nurtured and protected by men”. Shanti’s expression was neutral. “Doing so, you hurt women like me who have been fighting hard to prove we can be as strong and independent as any man.”
Shanti gazed at Mira, then, she finally nodded. “I understand. I am weak. And you think weak women like me are the reason strong and independent women like you are having a hard time.” Shanti stared at Mira in defiance for a couple of second then picked one of her flasks and slowly drank a few sips of water. When she spoke again, her voice was calm and clear. “Let me ask you something: who made the bread you’re eating? Who sewed the blanket that keeps you from dying every night? You spent your life training with the sword because that’s what ‘strong’ people do right? But do you even know how to forge a sword? Who mined the metals for it?
“You think you’re independent, but you’re wrong. We all depend on each other, we all take and give. You were trained to fight. So if we need to carry stuff or kill someone, you’ll do fine. I was trained in medecine, history, art, philosophy, mathematics and politics. So if we need basically anything else, you’ll be depending on me. And so would all these nice boys that have been carrying my bag for me.” Shanti’s perpetual smile was back on. “I guess if you really wanted to be independent, you could go live alone in a mountain. But I still don’t see how this would make you any morally superior to anyone”.
“As for the “strength” part of your argument, what exactly do you mean? Physical strength? Will? Power?” Shanti focused on Mira, expecting an answer. Mira turned her head and reflected. She had often debated these subjects in her mind, but in her imaginary debates, her opponents never really answered anything clever. Besides, she felt ashamed to have insulted the only person who had shown any interest in her since the beginning of the journey and really didn’t feel like contributing to the debate anymore. So Mira did what she usually did when she didn’t feel like talking: she didn’t.
Shanti picked a piece of dried bread and started chewing painfully. The followers of light, gave out the last scream of the night and the wavering light from their camp slowly faded. “I understand how you feel. You just need to stop sulking about it. If you want to truly change things, you deal with the cards you were given and follow the rules of the world you live in.” Then Shanti released her attention from Mira and started moving the sand below her thin mattress to imitate a pillow.
The condescending tone of Shanti irritated Mira. She felt like a child being scolded. /What’s going on with you?/ she thought /Say something! Defend yourself/. Instead, Mira focused on her own piece of stale bread, and set about the lengthy process of chewing it, glad to use the time to think things through. The problem was that Shanti was essentially right. While Mira had been pouting aside, unnoticed, the girl had worked up the moral of the whole band. At least she had contributed. Mira raised her head back towards Shanti. “How do you do it?”. “Today, after the events with the priest, everyone was as down as can be. You just walked from group to group, talked, laughed and by the end of the day, it was as if nothing had happened.”
Shanti raised her eyebrows as if surprised to hear a praise coming from Mira. “It’s an art and, as I said, I was specifically trained for it for as long as you’ve been holding a sword.” Shanti paused. She seemed to hesitate for a moment then nodded to herself and continued. “You give me too much credit though. Me and my charms are not the only one accountable for the /spirit/ of the men.” Shanti smiled playfully “If you see what I mean…”
Mira pondered for a second then whispered hesitantly “You mean…followers of the Spirit? Here?” Shanti nodded slowly. Mira instinctively raised her eyes towards the rest of the lords but the light of the moon was too weak to allow seeing further than her immediate surrounding.
Shanti gave out a discrete but genuine laugh “What? You think you’re going to just identify them by sight suddenly? They’ve been trained as spies as much as in the ways of the spirit. An exposed follower of the spirit is almost completely useless. Nobody likes to hang out with someone who can manipulate your emotions.”
Mira took some time to reflect on the recent events. Followers of the Spirit were mostly used by the crown, to subtly push emotions just enough to make a hesitating noble tip in the crown’s favor. She tried to remember events when she had felt external influence on her emotions but couldn’t figure it out.
Shanti looked amused while watching Mira struggling with her memory. “Don’t think of it too much for now, it’s hard to detect emotion push after the fact. Keep an eye open in the next days though, I’m curious to see if you’ll be capable to spot them.”
Then Shanti lied down in the spot she had carefully arranged and put an end to the conversation: “We should get as much sleep as we can now, we’ll have a lot of work tomorrow.” Mira wondered what she meant by that but Shanti turned her back to her, clearly signaling she was not interested in further discussion. When she finally fell asleep, Mira was still struggling to figure out who the followers of spirit were and how Shanti seemed so confident about their identity.
Mira woke up to the familiar sound of metal bumping against metal. The night had been the coldest since the begining of the journey. /Or it’s just me getting weaker/ Mira thought bitterly. On her side, Shanti was stirring painfully out of sleep. Mira studied the girl’s face. She was undeniably beautiful, but now that she was closer and still, something seemed off about her face. /She looks older/ Mira realized. Somehow, without her usual smile and energy, she looked older than the rest of the group. Everyone going through the portal was supposed to be below twenty. Asleep, under the crimson light of rising fire-in-the-sky, Shanti looked almost ten years older than that. Mira gathered her thoughts. Shanti was not from the capital, that much was sure. The nobility was a small world, if another female child-of-the-portal with the personality of Shanti had participated to the countless nobility events in the capital, Mira would have seen or heard of her which meant she came from the country. Almost all high lords were in the capital, if she was indeed from the country, it wouldn’t be hard to lie about her age. But why? Going through the portal was suicide. Especially for a woman. No one in their right mind would willingly do such a thing. Mira looked towards the seemingly unreachable Tower. /Except if she knows something we don’t/. Mira was still lost in thought, staring in the horizon towards the tower when she noticed Shanti’s eyes were now open and seemed focus on her. Mira turned to the girl and smiled shyly. Shanti smiled in return then shifted her gaze towards the tower.
“What do you think will happen?” Shanti asked. Mira took a couple of seconds to think before answering.
“The one-who-comes-back is always the most skilled duelist. I used to think there were monsters all over the land beyond the portal. I thought only the strongest could survive them and reach for the return portal.” Mira paused. She had spent eight days walking, bored and alone yet for some reasons, she hadn’t given the question much thought. “But now I doubt there will be anything to fight. So maybe people are waiting for us by the tower and they will organize some kind of fencing contest for the right to return.” As she spoke, Mira realized how ridiculous her speculations must have sounded. Who would live in a tower in the middle of nowhere just to organize a fencing contest between teenagers every forty years? Mira raised her eyes to monitor Shanti’s reaction. She seemed intensely focused on Mira, her expression neutral. Only when she understood Mira would not continue further, she commented on Mira’s theories.
“I think your premise is wrong. You base your presumptions on the fact that the one-that-comes-back is the most skilled duelist.” Shanti paused and started collecting her things and pack. Mira did not stir, she was eager and anxious to hear Shanti’s theories. For some reason, she felt the girl knew more than she did. “I dedicated a significant part of my life studying everything that relates to the portal.” Shanti smiled proudly at Mira. “I am considered quite a specialist in the field back in the realm.” Shanti thought she saw a quick blush on her cheeks, then she promptly added “despite my young age.” “Most of the times, the most skilled duelist is, indeed, the one who comes back. But not all the times. There are at least four recorded cases where the first of the academy did not come back from the portal. In three of these cases, these boys were reported as either lonely or asocial by their instructors in the academy.” “The second observation to consider is the state in which the one-that-comes-back returns. You know that none of the ones that came back has managed to keep memories from what happened beyond the portal. But we can still draw conclusions from the physical conditions in which they return. Turns out that in most cases, the one-that-comes-back has no injury (except for burns and blisters of course). In addition, half of the time, he wears neither armor or blade.”
“These observations suggest that fighting is not a part of the portal journey and thus that the fighting skills do not directly factor in the selection process.”
“If what you say is true Mira started–”
“How do I explain that most of the time the top of the academy is the one to return?” Shanti interrupted impatiently. Mira nodded. Shanti seemed about to explain, then stopped herself and turned to Mira instead. “Well what do you think? If you were the one to choose, how would you decide who gets to come back? To whom would you grant power and authority to lead the realm?”
As Shanti finished her question, Mira understood where the girl was going. While reflecting, Mira packed her things and stood up. The remaining brown priests seemed to be ready to go which meant the beginning of the ninth day of their journey. Only when they were both walking side by side did Mira answer. “Leadership.” and as she said the word, she saw Shanti smiling and nodding energetically. Mira continued “You think the one that returns is the leader of the group. Then the only reason the best fighters are often selected is that they are naturally accepted as leaders by the others nobles.”
“Exactly!” Shanti answered excitedly.
“But then who chooses? On what base?” Mira continued.
“God?” Shanti suggested.
Mira turned at once toward Shanti. “You believe in this? You said you were a scholar?”
“I don’t believe in anything, it’s all just assumptions, but think for a second, we’re talking about a superior being living at the other end of a magical portal who can grant mystic abilities and chooses the recipient of these abilities according to merit. Sounds like a good candidate don’t you think?
The idea of God was not very widespread in the kingdom. All churches followed deities that could be seen with their own eyes: fire-in-the-sky for the reds and the Land itself for browns. The belief in an all powerful invisible God was a relatively recent conviction, mostly held by a handful group of young Lords with too much free time and a leaning for pointless philosophy. At least that’s what Mira had thought all her life.
Mira looked toward the Tower with a renewed interest. She had never been particularily concerned by spiritual questions, probably for lack of time, but suddenly, all these abstract considerations seemed much more real. Who was waiting for them in this tower? Maybe they wouldn’t die after all. Maybe whoever was in charge would bring them to a different place, like another portal. Maybe the world beyond was so much better that nobody chose to return.
Mira shut her eyes and tried to calm her excitation. She could not afford to hope. She had grown accustomed to the idea that she would die in this journey for a very long time now. The sudden surge of hope came along with violent fears she thought she had tamed long ago.
“So you think God is waiting for us to reach the tower so that he can judge who is worthy of the power.” Mira had sounded more sarcastic that she intended, but Shanti did not seem to notice or care, she just smiled and nodded, looking blankly in the horizon. Then she turned towards Mira, she was still smiling, but she marked her words with solemn weight “That’s the reason why, you must take the leadership of the group as soon as possible.”
Mira blinked in surprise. She was about to answer Shanti when she realized they were at arms distance from a group of young lords. Shanti had led them there without her noticing. Mira panicked at once and felt her heart racing. Shanti probably noticed it and quickly whispered “Relax, smile, laugh when they make a joke and don’t talk to much. I’ll take care of the rest.”
“Hello boys!” Shanti called. They all turned at once towards her, smiling widely. Then their gaze turned towards Mira. Mira felt melting and it had nothing to do would the heat.
Mira smiled awkwardly and the boys smiled awkwardly in return. After a few seconds of silence, Shanti intervened: “So you’re just going to stare forever? Don’t they teach manners in the academy?” They laughed weakly and introduced themselves one after the other. Mira knew them all. She had attended almost all public tournaments and training since they had been children. She knew their style, strength and weaknesses. Her father was convinced she would have to fight them once beyond the portal and wanted her to know as much as possible “to compensate for your flawed nature” he had said, referring to her being a woman. They were all Mira’s age, the oldest boys from the group. “It’s an honor to finally meet you” one of the boys said. Nathan, Mira remembered. His name is Nathan. Mira paused, surprised for second, then she remembered Shanti’s advice and added a smile to her facial expression. Nathan continued, his tone confident and slightly sarcastic “You were quite the legend back when we were all children. I think everyone of us had a crush on you.” He looked straight at Mira’s face, he wore a constant child’s smile and intense inquisitive gaze. “You were the only girl we really got to see back then. The mysterious little girl who came to see every each of our training. We all fought a bit more fiercely when you were watching. I mean as fiercely as 8 year-old boys can fight. We wanted to impress you. I doubt it worked though did it?” The boys all laughed mildly as he said the last sentence so Mira made herself laugh as a response. She felt confused. Back in the time, Mira and her father had almost always been the only one in the audience when the boys fought tournaments. Only later, when the boys had become men did the tournaments attract a larger audience. “Of course, as we grew up, our training and tournaments started attracting more audience and when we reached fifteen they finally allowed us to leave the academy at certain times. So we got to…impress other girls. Except maybe for Harry…” Nathan looked towards one of the other boys standing the furthest from Mira. “Harry never quite went over his childhood crush” The boys all laughed more vocally now at Harry’s expense who looked mildly embarrassed. Mira knew that Nathan had probably just wanted to compliment her, but she felt much more embarrassed than flattered. Then she looked at Nathan’s face, looking at his friends with a satisfied childish smile and changed her mind: /he had meant to tease, not flatter. He probably exagerated the whole thing. That’s what boys do./ She looked at how they laughed at Harry and how Harry laughed with them, pretending to be hurt. /That’s just what boys do/ Mira thought. The teasing had probably been a way for Nathan to include her. Another of the boys intervened, his voice softer, less constantly mischievous than Nathan’s “We really wanted to get to know you since the beginning of the march, but you didn’t seem to want company” he sounded almost apologetic. Mira didn’t know what to answer but Shanti saved her from trying to find an excuse “Given how you smell, no doubt she didn’t want your company!” The boys laughed politely and Shanti changed the subject to Nathan’s skin problems which seemed to release the tension and generate more generous laughter.
After a few minutes of conversation, Mira felt more relaxed. Even though she still did not feel comfortable enough to participate too actively in the conversation, her forced smiles and laughs slowly became more and more genuine. Now that she wasn’t alone, she even found the heat a little less terrible.
“So the king only deigns joining us when the pretty girls are here?” Nathan screamed towards two boys who were walking towards the group. They were walking with fire-in-the-sky in their back so Mira had to squint her eyes to identify the newcomers. The tall one was Aliris which meant the other was probably Simon. Aliris laughed loudly from Nathan’s comment. When he was closer, he answered “Well I’m surely not joining to see your ugly face”. Even though Simon was standing right next to him, everyone’s attention was on Aliris. And so was Mira’s. Aliris was the dream son of every Lord. Tall, athletic and undeniably handsome. If not for Tristan, he would have been the best fighter in the academy, he laughed easily and loud, he put all his heart in everything he said and did. Mira had always felt like everything in Aliris’s attitude felt like he was shouting: “I’m awesome and I know it” which was alternatively charming and particularly irritating.
“And you are Mira I presume”. Aliris looked straight into Mira’s eyes and presented his hand. Mira reached out for a warrior handshake and answered “Yes”. She had sounded more harsh than she intended, but Aliris smiled nonetheless and she almost heard him thinking: “Don’t worry, all women get confused in my presence”. Mira released his hand and he immediately turned his whole attention to Shanti. Aliris had many qualities, but subtlety was definitely not one of them. The other boys continued talking, while Aliris and Shanti slowly drifted from the group. From what Mira could see, Shanti seemed to enjoy Aliris’s company. /Good for her/ Mira thought, but she couldn’t help but feel slightly betrayed.
The only boy who was as silent as Mira was Simon. Aliris’s friend looked sullen. Every now and then, he checked on Aliris and Shanti. /He is jealous/ Mira understood. But Mira didn’t think he was jealous of Shanti’s attention. On the contrary, he was one of the only boys in the group who actively seemed to avoid Shanti. So he was jealous of Shanti. /What a strangely intense friendship/ Mira thought.
Tristan called for a break and everybody sat down to eat drink and rest. At the beginning of the journey, they had been walking all day without interruption, but the recent exhaustion and the scarcity of food and water had made these breaks necessary for the majority of the group.
Mira studied Tristan. He was always surrounded by a dozen of younger lords. Like a child version of a king’s guard. The younger lords all looked up to Tristan as if he was a god. Right now though, Tristan’s behavior was not very god-like. He was staring at Shanti and Aliris who had isolated themselves even further. /As jealous as his little brother/ Mira noted. How ironic. The two brothers hated one another, but shared the same feeling about the young couple yet for different reasons. Mira guessed all the boys somehow envied Aliris for “winning” Shanti. But for Tristan, the feeling was especially intense: he had publicly beaten his rival at every tournament and for the first time, it seemed Aliris had triumphed.
In the evening, Mira expected to sleep alone, but Shanti settled next to her. “I thought you would be with Aliris” Mira said surprised.
“Not yet” Shanti answered and she started unpacking. “I have a surprise for you for tonight” Shanti said. She took out a vial from her bag. “Let me introduce /somnium altus/”. The vial contained a dark blueish liquid. “One drop of it and you’ll be sleeping deeply all night.”
Mira opened her eyes wide. If this really worked, it would be a blessing. She hadn’t had a real sleep since she had entered the portal.
“I didn’t have enough for the whole journey, but I’ll start giving them to whoever wants now.” She rose on her feet and opened the lid. “Open your mouth”. Mira did and felt a tiny drop of the liquid on her tongue. “Get ready to sleep, the potion should start working in a few minutes.” Then she gave a motherly smile and started walking towards the others. I lied down and followed her movements as she disappeared from my sight, swallowed by the night.
The following day, Mira woke up when fire-in-the-sky had already crossed the horizon. She felt more rested than she had ever felt in her whole life. Shanti was already awake. She had taken all kind of things from her bag and looked like she was counting them. The dark circles around her eyes suggested that she probably did not use the potion on herself. “Slept well Shanti?” Mira inquired. The girl did not answer immediately, she continued counting, her lips moving silently, and only when she was done, turned to Mira, gave her a quick smile and started packing her things back. “Perfectly” She answered. Mira didn’t push further and started getting ready herself.
“How good are you with a sword?” Mira and Shanti were sitting next to one another, waiting for the brown priests to finish getting ready. Mira thought for a second. “Depends comparing to whom”.
Shanti nodded. “Tristan?”.
Mira shook her head “Aliris and Tristan are a whole other level. If it wasn’t for the whole portal thing, they’d probably make king’s guard right after graduating”.
“What about…I don’t know…Simon?”
“Hum…He has his brother’s discipline, but none of his genius. He’s also smaller”. “In a fair fight I’d say fifty-fifty. My father made me work three times more than the boys in the academy, but they’re still taller and stronger. and they had the chance to be trained by the best teachers in the realm.” Mira made an effort not to betray the bitterness she felt in her voice. She had dedicated her life to the practice of the sword and according to her own assessment, after witnessing so many tournaments, she believed she was at best average compared to the other students from the academy.
Mira looked at Shanti. She seemed pensive. “Has anyone ever seen you fight?”
“No. My father made sure my training would be as secret as possible.”
“Then that’s good.” Shanti nodded. “They’d probably underestimate you.”
Mira stared blankly towards the distant tower. “That’s what my father counted on. Since I was little, he never believed I would ever be able to truly compete with the others.”
Shanti did not answer, she just nodded almost imperceptibly, she seemed lost in her thoughts.
“Do you think it will come to this? That we’ll have to fight one another?” Mira asked.
Shanti looked away for a moment. “Maybe”.
Mira and Shanti joined the same group as the day before. The boys seemed thrilled when the two girls appeared. They seemed much more energetic than the previous day, probably thanks to Shanti’s sleeping potion. The discussion was often light, sometimes less. They talked about politics and war, then discussed the relative appeal of Harry’s many sisters in a rather crude language. Later, Aliris and Simon joined and as the day before, Aliris and Shanti started walking further from the group. At some point, the boys started talking about fencing. They discussed the different stances they had been taught and debated why they favored one over another. Mira felt the urge to participate. She knew all the technical words they used and burned to use them herself as if to say: “I belong” But then she remembered her earlier discussion with Shanti. Her father had done everything he could to conceal her training. She couldn’t undo it all just to satisfy her need for recognition and belonging.
Mira was surprised when Tristan called for the mid-day break. She had not felt the time pass and didn’t feel the usual exhaustion that had been her faithful companion for the last days. “Seems everyone is in rather good shape. Shouldn’t we keep on?” Nathan asked when reaching Tristan’s small party. The other lords around nodded in agreement. As an answer, Tristan, pointed towards the rear of the procession with his chin. For the first time, the red priest, followers of lights were struggling behind the remaining followers of land who had almost joined the lords. “They refused to take Shanti’s potion yesterday” Tristan said, concealed anger in his voice.
“Why?” Mira had been so surprised she had let the question slip. All eyes turned towards her.
“I guess because she’s a woman” Harry answered simply.”
Mira looked around searching for Shanti, but she was still further away with Aliris, they had stopped walking, but didn’t seem to be heading in their direction.
“I say we leave these animals behind. They got what they deserved.” The one that had spoken was from one of the younger generations of lords. Even though she had never seen him fight, Mira knew him by reputation. He had an ugly burn scar on his right chick and was already as large as Aliris even though he was 3 or 4 years younger. Mira didn’t know his real name, but the others called him The Bull as a reference to his rather un-subtle yet efficient fighting style.
“We leave nobody behind.” Tristan said calmly. He didn’t even spare a look for the young lord, sat down in the sand and his personal 15-years-old fan club imitated him.
A few minutes later, the brown priests joined the warriors and sat down to eat a small piece of dry-something. “What do the red priest have against women?” Mira asked. Even though she had received the minimum of education from her mother, she had never before been exposed to any follower of the light.
The four boys and Mira were sitting in circle. They looked at one another and Harry volunteered to answer.“How familiar are you with the principles of the church of light?”
Mira tried to summon the memory of the few lessons she had gone through but couldn’t remember much other than their obvious fascination for fire-in-the-sky.
Harry must have seen the confusion on her face, because he smiled and went on “Anyway, I’ll go from scratch just in case.”
“The followers of light believe fire-in-the-sky is a god. Everyday, he rises in the sky and watches us mortals. And everyday, he is disappointed. To show his disappointment, he abandons us and leaves us in the dark. When fire-in-the-sky leaves the unworthy mortals in the dark, Lady-in-the-night takes its place in the sky. Lady-of-the-night is a vicious goddess. She hides parts of herself most nights and only yields enough light for robbers and murderers to spread terror.”
“They believe fire-in-the-sky wants us to be strong and honest, at His image. Thus, the worst sins for a mortal are weakness, deceit and cowardice. For them, women are both weak and deceitful. They believe women plot in the dark, use their…assets as a way to tempt men into submitting to their control.”
The other boys seemed as absorbed by Harry’s calm voice as Mira. She wondered if Harry’s knowledge came from the educators in the academy or from a more private source.
“When the third King–” Harry was suddenly interrupted by a high pitch scream. At once, everybody looked in the direction of the scream towards two boys in the distance. /Not two boys/ Mira thought. /It’s Shanti and Aliris/. Tristan was the first on his feet and he started running towards them. Mira had risen almost as quickly and followed closely. She heard the others running along in the back but on the sand, her lighter body gave her a small advantage when it came to running.
When Mira arrived to the scene, Aliris was standing bare chest, Shanti was on her back, her eyes red, the cloths on her chest were torn apart leaving it partly bare. The rest of the lords arrived and stood behind Mira and Tristan. For a moment nothing happened. Then, Aliris turned towards Tristan and the others “It’s not what you think! She wanted it! And then she started screaming out of the blue.”
In dozens of tournaments, Mira had never seen such rage on Tristan’s face. He slowly turned his head towards Shanti who was trying to cover her body with the torn pieces of cloths. “He…I just wanted to talk and he–”
“You lying bitch!” Aliris erupted! And he stepped forward towards Shanti.
Then Tristan drew his sword and the world seemed to stop moving.
Aliris turned around and smeared at Tristan. “That’s what it’s really about isn’t it? Did you ask Shanti to play the act so you could have a reason to slay me?” Aliris was smiling like a madman. He picked up the sword that was laying in the sand and faced Tristan. “One last one? This time I am not going–”
Tristan threw his sword forward faster than Mira thought was humanly possible. Aliris somehow managed to deflect the blow from piercing his stomach, but the blow still bit the flesh of his hips. At this moment, Tristan was slightly imbalanced, and Aliris should have counter-attacked. He didn’t. The wound in his hips was probably distracting him. From this moment, Mira knew he stood no chance. Somewhere, further in the back someone shouted “Noooo”. /Simon/ Mira thought. Too late. Tristan pushed his advantage. /How can he be so fast/ Mira thought. Aliris kept on pulling back. His face had lost all confidence, replaced by pure, primal fear. His body kept reacting out of pure reflex, but his mind knew he was about to die. “Enough!” Nathan shouted worried. The other boys started walking towards Tristan hesitantly. Mira saw from the corner of her eyes, Simon running toward the duel. Then Tristan pushed even stronger. He didn’t worry about Aliris’s counter-attacks any longer. One blow slashed Aliris wrist and he screamed from pain. Half a second later, the scream died when Tristan’s sword plunged into his throat. In an instant it was as if everyone had stopped breathing. Then Tristan pulled the sword back from Aliris’s throat and a fountain of blood exploded silently on the sand. He stopped moving before his head even reached the ground. But the blood didn’t stop. So much blood. Then Simon finally arrived. He was still running. Too late. He crouched by Aliris and cried. He put a hand behind what was left of his neck. And he cried. The blood flowed along Simons’arms, staining his cloths. But he didn’t move.
Mira saw the change of expression on Tristan’s face. From rage to fear to shame and then resolve. He had surely done the right thing. Hadn’t he? Nobody dared moving. Mira was the first to move. She walked towards Shanti. She was a mess. Mira covered the girl with her own cape and took her in her arms.
“How could you do it?” Nathan had spoken loud enough for everyone to hear. There was none of the usual playful confidence to his voice, just pure shock. The other boys, including Harry were behind him.
“What should I have done? The sentence for rape, back in the realm, is imprisonment. Do you see any prison around? Would you rather have let him continue walking among us?”
Nathan did not answer. He was probably thinking, like everybody else: “what if he didn’t do it? What if Shanti had lied?” But he didn’t say it. Probably because Shanti was still there, crying in Mira’s arms.
Mira expected Simon to explode in anger against his elder brother but instead, he remained silently crying by his friend’s side. The scene lasted less than a minute, but felt like an eternity. Everything seemed perfectly still except for Aliris’s endless flow of blood pouring along Simon’s arms.
Without any trace of expression on his face, Tristan faced the rest of the group and ordered the march to continue. There was a few seconds of hesitation in the crowd and for a moment, Mira thought nobody would follow him. Then he slid his sword down back within its scabbard and as the whistling of metal resonated, the crowd stirred into reluctant activity.
Before leaving, Tristan moved towards Aliris’s bag. But one look from his brother and he stopped. “The brown priests are running out of water” Tristan pleaded. “It will do him no good now.” Simon neither answered nor moved from Aliris’s side. Tristan gave up and started walking away.
They left Aliris’s body behind. For a moment, Mira worried Simon would remain there with him but he eventually left his friend’s side and joined the mourning group walking silently.
Whip. Light. Screams. Fire-in-the-sky had fallen behind the horizon line and the twisted flickering fire of the red priest torturing themselves had replaced its light. Mira was about to settle when Shanti lightly touched her arm.
“Do you mind if we move further away?” Shanti’s voice was barely more than a whisper. She looked blankly towards the rest of the boys. Mira understood.
After the events at noon, the walk and the heat had kept Mira in a numb state of stupor. Now she could see the damage on Shanti. And it pained her to see her this way.
“Of course.” Mira clenched her jaw and put a hand on the pommel of her sword. “And if anyone gets close…”
A sad smile flashed on Shanti’s faced. She said nothing but Mira could read the gratitude in her swollen eyes.
Mira started eating, trying to ignore how few supplies she had left. Shanti searched her bag and took out another of the small sleeping potion.
“You don’t have to do this” Mira said. “God knows you had a day full enough as it is.”
Shanti took a couple of breaths before answering. “After…what happened, we need a good sleep more than ever.” And she started walking towards the others.
Mira lied down, looking at the sky. Lady-in-the-night was full. In the stories of the portal from her childhood, when Lady-in-the-night was full, the monster creatures of darkness gained incredible strength. Mira could still remember the stories her mother had read to her about it since she had been a child. While those stories were told to all children as an entertainment, for the children of the portal like Mira, they were more like a practical preparation.
“I’m sorry, I have no potion left.” Shanti was back. “I gave the last drop to one of the brown priests.”
“No problem.” Mira was still lying on her back, looking at the sky when she found the courage to say “Do you… I mean if you want to talk about what happened…”
Shanti moved her things and lied down so close to Mira that their shoulders were touching. She was also on her back and looked up to the night. The air was growing colder each second now. The silence seemed to slowly fill the space around them like smoke from a newly born fire. Mira could hear the slowing rhythm of Shanti’s heart and see the wisps of steam they both exhaled mingle playfully under the silver light of Lady-in-the-night.
“I will. But not tonight.” Then she reached for Miras shoulder and followed her forearm blindly with her fingers until their hands were touching then softly squeezed her hand. Mira shivered at the contact.
They stayed holding hands until Mira felt her eyes closing, despite the cold. Then she turned around and fell into dreamless sleep.
“Mira wake up! Wake up!” Mira felt someone poking at her shoulder restlessly. She opened her eyes and saw Shanti’s panicked face above her.
“Something is going on! I think we are under attack!”
Mira immediately found the sword on her side and stood up. Everyone seemed to be lying still except for a single man who was walking hurriedly in their direction. He was still too far for Mira to see his face, but even at this distance, she could see the shape of the sword he was holding. Further on the left, towards the group of red priests Mira thought she saw some movement. /Why is nobody else reacting/ Mira thought. Then Mira understood /They’re all sleeping from the potion/. She was alone.
“I have nothing against you.”
The man was covered in blood. Every inch of his cloths was soaking in blood as if he had just jumped head first in a pool full of the red liquid. His face was so stained that it took several seconds before Mira could recognize the man.
Simon.
“I have nothing against you Mira” He said walking slowly towards the two girls. “But your lady friend is a snake and she must pay the price for her involvement in the murder of Aliris.” Surprisingly his tone was cold but calm which contrasted with the blood dripping from his face and sword.
“You are no threat to me, so move away and I will spare you.”
As an answer, Mira stepped forward so that Shanti would be behind her, drew her sword and raised it in a defensive guard. She felt the familiar thrill that preceded each of her fights. /This time it’s different/ Mira thought. If I make a mistake, I die. Or worse, he could wound her enough so that she wouldn’t be able to move. Then he would slaughter Shanti in front of her eyes and leave her here to bleed out slowly for days. Fear seized her. She suddenly felt so vulnerable. She swallowed. Her mouth felt dry. Her heart started racing uncontrollably. Then, for no reason, she felt a surge of calm washing over her. Peace and confidence. She had trained all her life for this. Some parts of her brain registered that something was wrong, that the sudden confidence was not earned, but it didn’t matter.
Unaware of the battle that had unraveled in Mira’s mind, Simon waited a couple of second, then he shrugged and threw himself forward.
Mira was ready. following her trained instincts, she blocked his blow easily and immediately counter-attacked. As she did, she realized she had made a mistake. He jumped away from her sword and paused. She could see in his posture that he had reevaluated his opponent. She had reacted too well too early. He no longer underestimated her. She had ruined her best advantage. She screamed as she surged forward towards the boy. He escaped her attack but she pushed forward. /With all the blood dripping from his face/ Mira thought, /he will get distracted at some point. I just need to push forward./ He blocked each of her strikes efficiently until Mira started panting in exhaustion. Then it was his turn to press forward. He fought by the book. Wary and patient. Mira heard weak screams coming from the camp. /Finally/ she thought. She registered some movements in the corner of her vision but couldn’t release her focus from the fight. Then, without warning, fire exploded on her left. A bright roaring ball of fire rushed towards Simon. Simon dodged it at the last moment which left him unbalanced for a fraction of second.
Mira didn’t need more.
She swiped at his right ankle and Simon fell to the ground. He tried to roll away as fast as he could. But he wasn’t fast enough. Mira’s sword fell on his upper back, penetrated the flesh and severed his spine at once. He screamed in atrocious pain and his body started convulsing.
As if the sudden scream had waken her from a dream, Mira’s eyes opened in horror and she released her sword which remained buried half way in Simon’s body. The thrill of the fight had vanished. The confidence, the training. Gone.
She raised her head, to escape the vision of the agonizing boy. Then she saw the crowd that had gathered around her. On her left, the red priests. And in front of her, seven Lords, looking like they were barely awake. In the dim light of Lady-in-the-night, Mira tried to look past the seven boys in front of her. The majority of the Lords seemed to be still lying in the sand. /How did they not wake up?/ She tried to think, but the screams of Simon, still twisting in pain kept bringing her back to the crude reality. Since she had stopped fighting, the freezing cold had quickly regained dominion over her body and Mira started to shake uncontrollably feeling as if a thousand invisible needles were piercing her skin through her thin tunic.
“Finish him woman.” Jarod, leader of the followers of light, stepped forward towards the body of Simon. He was quickly weakening. The screams had now become moans. Jarod put a boot on the sword and pushed. Simon’s screams exploded in the night.
Mira looked the red priest in the eyes and he stared back, his gaze cold as steel.
Jarod gestured towards the lying shapes of the remaining lords. “He killed almost all your Lord friends in their sleep.” Then he frowned and spat “Coward.” As he did so, he kicked Simon’s back again. Something cracked and Simon’s screams renewed. Then he backed away as if leaving the stage for Mira.
Shanti appeared behind Mira. “He’s right” she whispered. She looked down to Simon with pained empathy. “At this point, there is nothing to do. He’s already dead. If you don’t do it, he’ll just suffer longer.”
Of course Mira knew all that and Shanti’s obvious comment was just irritating. /Why don’t you do it yourself then?/ she thought. She felt empty. As if a storm had invaded her mind, broken everything and left. She stepped forward. One step, two steps. Simon was at her feet, he was barely moving. She seized the sword and pulled it but the sword remained buried in the bones. She had used up all muscles from her arms during the fight. She raised her eyes for a moment. Everyone was staring at her. She focused back on the sword, put both hands on the grip, the bottom of her boot on Simon’s neck and pulled. As the sword released from the body, blood started flowing weakly out of the long wound. At this distance, she could see his face. His eyes were red from pain. His nose was buried in the sand so that he had trouble breathing. He was trying to move his head out of the sand but all he managed to do was shaking weakly. Mira’s instinct begged her to help the poor boy position himself so he could breath. Instead, she took a step back, rose the sword with both hands and gathered all the strength she had left. The sword fell on his neck and a couple of seconds later, he was no longer moving.
Mira raised her head from Simon’s corpse. The crowd gathered around her was silent. She took her sword, used a clean part of her cloth to wipe the blood from it and sheathed it. Then she started walking towards the bodies of the other Lords still lying in the sand.
All of them were dead. Simon had plunged his sword into their throat. /Like Tristan had done to Aliris/. She recognized Nathan, Harry and the other boys she had been walking with for a few days.
“I think he would have killed them all if he hadn’t seen us moving in his direction.” The one speaking was wearing a Red robe, but his voice and face were softer than Mira thought possible from a follower of Light. She hadn’t realized that the remaining lords and priests had been following her in her stroll along the cemetery that had been their camp.
Mira felt someone reaching for her arm. It was Shanti. Around them, the ones who had followed was keeping their distance with the two girls. “Listen, you have the momentum, you must seize the leadership now! You have a chance to come back now. You could be the first!” Shanti looked around nervously “Order them to gather all the bags so that we’ll divide the supplies when fire-in-the-sky arises.”
Mira turned to Shanti but she was already leaving her side, joining the group slowly gathering around her. /So that’s what it was all about/ Mira thought. She replayed the events of the last days in her head, connecting the dots. As the different pieces connected, she felt a cold rage spreading along her body. She looked around her, at the dozen of dead bodies. /It’s all her fault/. Mira directed her gaze towards Shanti. As if unaware of the anger in Mira’s eyes, Shanti gestured intently toward the others.
Mira had to calm down. She was a warrior. Discipline. They were already dead. At least she could still save herself by following Shanti’s murderous plan. If she wanted to become the-one-that-came-back, she just had to take the lead now. Start giving some orders around and prey for people to obey. She who had always been by herself, afraid to speak in public, the girl who shouldn’t have lived.
Mira didn’t have time to indulge further in self-doubt that she immediately felt a surge of confidence struggling to take control of her mind. /Follower of the Spirit. She’s the follower of Spirit/ Mira understood, then she turned towards Shanti who seemed more focused than ever, her eyes closed, sweat dripping from her forehead despite the cold. /She’s been manipulating me since the beginning./ Shanti opened her eyes, and her expression seemed to beg “Please don’t fight me.”
Then, with a last angry sigh, Mira let go of her mental defenses. The wave of confidence surged in her mind, contaminating her thoughts like a turbulent river washing away her doubts and weaknesses. She closed her eyes and as her thoughts unraveled, she saw the world with a clarity she had never before experienced.
She was now the oldest Lord alive. For days, the others had seen her isolating herself, barely speaking, casting mean glances around as if she had been too good for the rest of the group.
They didn’t know that inside, she was doubting. That she had longed for anyone to join her, talk to her.
They had seen her, under the light of full Lady-in-the-night, wielding the sword that had slained the enemy. The very enemy who had managed to kill the best of their warriors. It didn’t matter that she was a woman. More than that, it gave a surrealistic aura to everything she had done: she had the familiarity of a warrior, yet she was different. In their collective mind, she was the embodiment of the mysterious hero whose tales are told again and again under different names in all children stories.
Shanti wanted her to take the lead. She had suggested her to start by ordering to collect the bags and leave. That’s probably what Tristan would have done. It was the practical, efficient thing to do, pack leave and forget. But when she looked around at the seven remaining young lords, the brown priests and even some of the followers of light, she understood– no she felt their need for something more. The effect of Shanti’s magic was ecstatic, as if she was outside of herself, and capable of exploring everyone’s soul as easily as her own.
They needed meaning.
They needed someone to tell them that all this suffering and death was not for nothing. That even so far from humanity, there was still such a thing as right and wrong. If she didn’t give it to them, there would be more pain and violence. She /knew/ it, and knew how to correct it as if their colective minds was just an unstable walking toddler who needed something grab.
Mira took a few deep breath, she could still feel the mental energy Shanti had sent her vibrating in her brain. Then she talked. Without screaming, just loud enough for the survivors of the night to hear.
“Simon killed most of the Lords.” She looked around at the scattered body, hardly suppressing her anger and disgust.
“It probably started as a revenge for the murder of Aliris. But he didn’t stop at Tristan. He tried to murder them all, maybe because he was afraid to be caught, maybe because he hoped to become the one-who-comes-back by eliminating competition, maybe there was nothing rational about it and he just went mad with despair at the loss of his friend.”
“They died for no reason, for no purpose. But at least, in their death, they leave supplies, and in these lands, it means they leave life. I know taking from the dead, taking from your friends is hard. But at least, by doing so, you give a little of meaning to their otherwise meaningless death.”
Then Mira walked to the closest body— one of the younger lords whose name she didn’t know— and started packing his things within the bag that was lying by his side. A couple of seconds later, the crowd around her imitated her.
For some time, she willed her mind to focus on the manual task. She gave more directions about where to deposit the supplies.
“So I infuse a bit of spirit in you and you go straight for epic speeches” Shanti’s voice was trembling. Mira was crouching, collecting the supplies of one of the last boys. She did not answer or show any sign that she had noticed Shanti’s poor attempt at humor. She did not want to think, see or talk to the girl or she felt her rage would return and she was far too exhausted for it. Shanti’s legs entered her field of vision. They were shaking as if the girl had been carrying a whole house on her shoulder. Mira stood up reluctantly and faced the girl. Her face looked like she had aged by ten years. She smiled at Mira. A cheerless smile that drew more trenched lines on her pale emaciated face. Despite her feeling for the girl, Mira felt her heart sink. “What happened to–” Then Mira stopped herself. The anger emerged back “Are you manipulating my emotions now? Trying to stir empathy for you?”
Shanti’s painful smile turned sour, she slowly blinked and lowered her head. “I could not manipulate a cow into eating grass right now.” She raised her head and Mira could see sparkles in her eyes, tenacious remains of her former pride. “I gave you everything I had. I will probably never be able to use my Spirit again.”
Despite everything she suspected, seeing Shanti in this state, Mira couldn’t help but feel for the girl. She took a look around at the corpses, trying to summon her rage. “Aliris never did you any harm.”
Shanti didn’t deny.
“It was all an act. You knew how Tristan would react. You counted on it. Needed Aliris dead so you got Tristan to do the job.” Mira spoke with contained anger, just loud enough for Shanti to hear. They were fairly isolated from the others, but Mira didn’t want anyone to hear.
“It was all fake” Mira felt the sting of the betrayal even more acutely than the cold. Surprisingly, from all things, one hurt her the most. “I was only a tool in your plan since the begining”.
Mira stepped towards Shanti and, louder she had intended, she asked “Why?. Why me?”
Shanti gave a short sneer “This is much bigger than you. Bigger than me. It has been planned since before you were even born.” Shanti gestured towards the bodies spread around in the sand. “What you see here is nothing. While training as a healer, I was on the battleflield of the famous Roma victory two years ago. I was there with my teachers to complete my training as a healer.”
“There weren’t enough healers for the countless rows of wounded soldiers agonizing in the dust. We had to hurry, amputating limbs after limbs, hearing grown men and kids alike crying out in atrocious pain. One week later. I was in the backseats when the emperor paraded with the high Lords, acclaimed by all the capital like a hero. We’ve been fighting enemies we know almost nothing about for hundreds of years just to satisfy the taste for violence and glory of a few men.
Shanti turned her head towards the group of red priests. While some of them were helping to collect the remaining supplies, most of them had gone back to their camp further away to sleep through the rest of the night. “Do you know that in the last ten years, the number of Followers of light has doubled? Now some in the nobility wondered how such a thing was possible? After all, their contempt for women is well known, they never take wife, don’t accept women in their ranks, don’t recruit and live secluded from the rest of the world. So how did they managed to grow in numbers? Well turns out that in the countryside, more and more random houses just suddenly started burning in the last decade. Sometimes, some manage to survive. But never women. According to our intelligence, They use these fires as a distraction, kidnap the women, then keeps them chained in the basement of their temples and use them as baby machines.”
“The leader of our league reported everything to the King. And guess what he did? Nothing. Apparently the support of Red priests in the war is too important to start a conflict. He said he could not risk the survival of the whole kingdom for a few ‘poor women’” Shanti spat the last words with such violence that Mira instinctively took a step back.
“Men had their chances at power. It’s time for a change.”
“So maybe my plan won’t work, maybe it will. Maybe you’ll end up no better than the emperors before you. But at least we’ve been trying to do something.”
Mira stared at the girl. Her thoughts were more confused than she had ever believed possible. She had never before experienced moral conflict. Her martial education had been devoid of any kind of nuance. She had followed orders, acclaimed the king when he said battles had been won and diligently participated in the collective mourning when they had lost. In addition, Mira finally felt the effects of whatever Shanti had done to her mind fading. And as the artificial confidence faded, her familiar doubts and insecurities came rushing back into her mind like a bullying big brother coming back home. “I…I don’t know what to think” Mira admitted.
“Well let me make it clearer then. I couldn’t care less what you think. Some have spent their life gaining enough influence to smuggle me into the portal. I myself will probably die here. I used up all my power to manufacture some kind of leadership capabilities into your sorry head. So let me tell you again. I don’t care how you ‘feel’ about it.” She turned furiously towards the red priests camp. “All I care about, is that you do as I instruct you to, become the first woman to come back from the portal, stop sending our children to die in stupid wars and eradicate the red scum.”