Chapter Six- What the Voice Said
It’s back. The world is back. Chiren is back, complete with fancy gilded-ness. The throbbing in my head subsides a little. Just a little.
“Emma? Emma! Emma, are you alright?!” Koreth’s voice, from very far away. “Emma!”
“I’m okay....” I manage to get out. Yeah, I’m just fine, for someone who feels like she’s got a freaking sledgehammer in her brain. Other than that, I’m A-okay.
I realize, dimly, that I’ve slumped down onto the road, which may explain the stinging in my kneecaps. Okay, standing up now, standing up...
“Ah!” Or not... Why are we walking on a brick road when I faint, anyway? This never happens on nice, soft grass. A gentle pressure on my shoulder. Koreth helps me get to my feet.
The ache in my head starts to recede. I’m unsteady, I’m trembling, but now that I’m up, I think I can stand on my own.
“Wh-what the hell?” Iarin asks, the expletive sounding odd in her polite little voice.
“I... I don’t know,” I whisper weakly. “I have no idea, but...”
“No,” Iarin whispers back, her small voice hoarse, “that.”
I raise my head, focusing bleary eyes in the direction of her gaze. Koreth turns to face in that direction, too, off towards the gates, where it is standing.
The Chiren guard appears to have forgotten his fondness for his beautiful capital, turns back towards us, and begins running at top speed, armor clanking, for the safety of the city walls, serving as a rather effective alarm system. The homegoers look up, and they see it.
Framed in the gateway, it looks like a huge and slightly demented lion, black fur and tawny mane, an immense black-feathered wingspan sprouting from it shoulders, little red eyes fixed on the city with a sort of cold rage that has left all control behind.
It lowers its immense head close towards the ground, stepping on careful paws that don’t make a sound but cause the earth to tremble, through the archway and into the city. Its wings catch on and knock loose a few stones in the great white wall, sending bricks tumbling to the ground like blue-grey bullets. The brick path cracks gently under its weight, sending spiderweb spirals across the ornate red pattern.
The throngs bolt for their houses, a thunder-crashing, mosh-pit panic zipping through them all, bumping into the trees and the walls and each other in their wild attempts to escape. But as the creature swipes away an entire house (a fancy one, too, white marble with waterfalls and those nifty little wooden bridges in its garden) the citizens of Chiren realize that there is no refuge for them behind walls.
“That’s... that’s...” finally, I give up. “Okay, what is that exactly?”
“A nedra.” Koreth says, “but I don’t see how that’s– “
No chance to worry about a statement that I wouldn’t have understood anyway. The nedra is closing in fast, its steps sending the people dashing in ripples towards the Councilbuilding, where I imagine they’ll at least have a facade to duck behind, if not for long. They push people aside like waves, sending the three of us careening in opposite directions. Someone shoves me against one of the aspen trees, where I thwack my head against the trunk and sway for a few seconds, because Lord knows I don’t have enough head problems yet. When my vision clears again, most of the people are gone, pushed way up against the far wall.
Across the way from me, Iarin seems to be getting her balance after having been bowled over by a crowd who probably didn’t even see her there. Near the fountain, Koreth also seems to be getting unsteadily to his feet, and the nedra–
The nedra is directly across from him, walking straight ahead, closing in fast. In the emptiness, with all the other people hiding and the streets deserted, it looks even huger and even more powerful, and Koreth by comparison looks quite insignificant.
There’s no one around, on any side of us. Everyone is too busy ducking behind the Councilbuilding, and the Councilcowards themselves are probably too busy ducking behind their oversized chairs. As my eyes pass over the gates, something stirs in the back of my mind, like something is missing that should be there, but I don’t bother thinking much about it. We’re out in the blazing open, glowing in the sunset light, and, if by some chance it hasn’t spotted us already, the nedra will see us for sure if we move–
Sunset.
How long do you think you have before the sun sets?
Of course! At sunset, Koreth will get his spell back–
I squint up at they sky, but the sun is far from dropping over the horizon. We’ve got at least ten minutes before it sinks completely, and, until then, there’s no way for Koreth to defend himself, and the nedra just keeps coming closer...
Iarin looks around in confusion and panic. Seeing no sources of help, she just stands looking from the nedra to Koreth, to the slowly sinking sun, the gates, the buildings. She’s just a Healer after all, I don’t imagine she can put up much of a fight. In fact, since Koreth is out of spells for the day, none of us can put up any sort of resistance against this thing. None of us–
Except me.
Don’t be stupid, don’t be stupid, there’s nothing I can do.
I can fight.
NO, I can’t. I don’t have any powers, I don’t HAVE any strength.
The voice said I had strength. And I almost killed the dragon.
If I can fight, where was that ability when–
Shut up. Don’t think about that. I can do something. I can save him. Besides, what have I got to lose?
Everything.
My world is gone. Face it already. I can't go home, I won't see my mom or dad or teachers or friends... make that friend, ever again. There’s only one thing left that I can still protect. And if I don’t fight, I’ll lose it. I’ll lose him.
I can’t. I can’t I can’t I can’t–
I can.
My fingers grip the hilt of the sword, pulling it smoothly from the iridescent scabbard. The blade and my arm move fluidly together, as if they are part of the same whole, as if I was born to be here and now and fighting.
The nedra, sensing movement, turns in mid-stride, turns to face me, empty red glare making me feel frozen in my steps, paralyzed. But I keep charging forward, like the me that is afraid no longer holds any connection at all to the “real” me, like I’m observing from a distance while another, much braver Emma slashes once-twice across the nedra’s leg.
But the warm red blood splattering on me sends me back to something like reality, whatever reality is in this upside-down little world. The nedra, for its part, seems rather distracted, as anyone would be if you sliced open their leg. It responds to this with a deft swipe of its other paw, tearing a gash in my left arm from my wrist all the way up to my shoulder, but, hey, I fight with my right arm, so it’s all good. Even as blood splashes down on the path, I keep going, swinging my arm up with all my strength to spear straight through the bottom of the paw. The nedra roars in agony, but I’m momentarily wide open to attack with the few seconds it takes to pull the blade back out, and get hit in the side with a wayward sweeping paw. I manage to jump out of the way in time, having pulled the sword free, so there’s no serious damage. Just a scratch.
Before I can get hurt any worse, I bring the sword up to slice across the still reeling nedra’s throat, then back away in a hurry as it begins to slump and finally falls dead.
I would swear that even the birds have fallen silent, that the fountain freezes in the air, that the wind stops rattling the tree leaves. Everything is so completely, eerily still as I stand there, covered in blood, next to the dead nedra. Everything is silent. I don’t move. I don’t blink. I think I’ve stopped breathing.
Slowly, tentatively, the people of Chiren begin to edge out from behind their building. They glance around, grimly and without speaking. Their eyes fall on the nedra, and flicker with fear before dimming and calming as they see it can no longer harm them. Their eyes fall on me, and my blood freezes.
They’ll know now, I think resignedly, They’ll know exactly what I am. And they’ll have me killed then, no matter what anyone says.
They look from me, to the slain nedra, to each other, and back to me as one, many-headed, silent entity. The silence seems to thicken with a terrible finality.
And then, for some unfathomable reason, the people of Chiren, the people of the golden-streeted city beneath the bright sun and the dark green flag, children of old money and old power... they all raise their hands, and begin to cheer.
Okay then…
Okay. At this point, the huge bleeding gash from my left wrist to my left shoulder is starting to become a slight problem. I feel weak and dizzy from loss of blood, and after a moment, my legs give out and I can’t seem to get to my feet.
Stupid pavement, I think as my head hits it again. With all these blows to the head, I’m very lucky I’m not visibly insane yet.
I can hear someone running towards me, someone who, on closer inspection, appears to be Iarin.
“Emma!” she shouts, “What’s wron–“then he sees my shoulder. “Oh.”
Ye-eah. That would be what’s wrong.
“H-here, hang on a second...” Iarin carefully lifts my arm from the ground and pauses to examine the wound. Every time she moves it, it sends sharp spasms of pain up through the cut.
“W-well, it could be worse.” She says decisively. “At least your arm is s-still intact, and all. I c-can probably fix this.”
What?
Iarin closes her eyes and takes a deep breath in through her teeth. Slowly and carefully, slowly and carefully, she runs the end of her fingernail over the opening. It’s like pouring orange juice into a cut, an blazing, burning pain flaring up from the wound, but then its gone, the wound replaced by a thin blue glowing line. Iarin pulls her hand away, and the glow disappears.
There isn’t a trace of blood on my arm, even. The wound’s disappeared, without leaving even a scar. My arm is just the way it was before, and besides that, my scraped knee has stopped stinging, my splitting headache a distant memory. Iarin’s spell has even eliminated all the traces of blood-- dragon, nedra, and human-- soaking through my clothing. The rips in my sweatshirt from the cut and from being almost stabbed in the back in Yoake have vanished.
Iarin, for her part, looks even paler than usual, something I would have originally deemed physically impossible. She slumps back against the side of the nearby fountain, and presses her forehead against the cool marble. After closing her eyes for a short moment she looks up, as though suddenly better.
“Are you ok over there?” I ask, just to make sure. Iarin nods.
“I-its ok.” she says with that oddly calm stammer, “I’m fine. Healing can sometimes make the caster a little weak, that’s all. I-in a minute or two, I’ll be just as before…. See? There. I’m a-already better.” She staggers to her feet, swaying slightly and smiling unconvincingly.
“Emma!”
I turn around quickly, forgetting to stand up all the way first and therefore sending myself crashing back down on my butt, but otherwise alright.
“Koreth!” I call back, “Are you ok? You didn’t get hurt, right?”
Koreth blinks in surprise. “N-no, I’m fine. But you? The nedra– “
”Yeah, it did hurt my arm. But Iarin– get this– Iarin Healed it! Like, it’s not even there anymore!” Of course she did, she’s a Healer. Shut up, Emma, you’re making yourself sound even stupider than usual...
Koreth doesn’t point this out, polite person that he is, to my eternal gratitude. He just smiles and says, “I’m glad you’re okay. And thank you, Iarin. Are you alright?”
“M-much better, actually.“ Iarin says, this time actually managing to sound believable. She’s sitting on the edge of the fountain and has finally managed to stop trembling.
I join her, murmuring, “This sort of thing must not be common in Chiren... everybody was so panicked.” as I sit down.
Koreth sits down on my other side. “It’s not. Most of the time, things like that avoid people. That’s why we didn’t run into anything on the way here from Yoake. But there are people... who have the power to take animals like that and mess with their minds, stuff like that.”
“Beast-Manipulation magic.” Iarin says quietly.
“It takes years and years of study. Manipulation magic is probably one of the most difficult disciplines to master. Even so, it’s not something just anybody can learn with just hard work. Without a special talent for it, mastering manipulation magic would take several lifetimes. So, it’s not very common, as you can imagine. And any kind of magical study is carefully regulated anyway, all over the Republic of Hanora. That’s actually what started the war in the first place, Sareil had illegal magic schools... Anyway, the Council– and everyone else, for that matter– would know if there were any Beast-Manipulators in the Republic, no doubt about it.”
“But this nedra...” I struggle to make sense of all this, “It just walked up here and started killing people. Does that mean there’s, like, a rouge manipulator here, somewhere..?”
But, “No, actually.” Koreth says, “Nedra...”
“...a-are native to Sareil.” Iarin finishes.
“And Sareil’s attempt to assassinate our friend from before... Councilwoman Beckett... proved a little lackluster, at least, so I heard. Like they weren’t even trying.”
“Sareil.” I say slowly. “You mean... the whole purpose of that attack that everyone’s been going on about... was to get this thing into Hanora?”
“Afraid so.”
“I-it seems that way...”
“That’s terrible! Those cowards! Couldn’t they fight for themselves? And striking here, at an innocent city... half these people are probably just clerics or bookkeepers, there aren’t any warriors here! Just striking at a city full of people with no fighting experience at all, and worse, striking with an animal, not even fighting for themselves! They’re just picking on the weak because they can, and yet they’re too scared to stand up and fight fairly!!” I catch my breath, angrier then I’ve been ever since I can remember. Or maybe all the anger that I’ve held back, since the beginning, from every time I’ve been at the weak end of the whole strong-picking-on-the-weak deal, is finally coming to the surface. “What kind of... what kind of terrible people are these?”
Iarin avoids my gaze with all she’s got, and Koreth just stares straight ahead, with no expression, no expression at all.
“Don’t you guys get it?” I want to scream at them. It’s taking most of my considerable willpower to keep my volume level down to what kindergarten teachers always call “indoor voice.” “We have strength. We can be of a help. We can save Hanora, and destroy these people. If not us, then who? How many people are going to have to suffer, huh? Are we just going to sit here and do nothing?”
Iarin doesn’t argue with me. Koreth just gives me a look like hey, whatever, I don’t care. Do what you want.
“If we can get into Sareil, we can do some real damage, I bet,” I continue, blazing with a strange courage I didn’t know I had.
Which is when common sense catches up with me, of course.
“Er... how exactly would we get into Sareil?”
“Umm...” Iarin says quickly, her tone carrying that of a rather belated protest. When I turn towards her, she falls silent and looks at the ground.
“I don’t know.” says Koreth, “but if anyone does, they’re probably in Naroth.”
“And how exactly would we get to Naroth?”
“It’s north of here. In the mountains. “
”Okay!” I say, “Let’s get going!” I start forward.
“Hold it.”
“Eh?”
“First of all, that would be east. Second, you won’t get into Naroth without a pass. It’s the military capital of the empire. They won’t just let anyone walk through the gates. The Council could write us a pass... if you’re willing to face them again.”
Well, since we’re both fighting Sareil, I guess the Councilcrazies and I are allies now. No help for it...
“Okay.” I say, “Absolutely.”
* * * * *
“Absolutely not.” says the Councilwoman in her sharp snapping voice.
“Hey, we just saved your pathetic lives! A little gratitude wouldn’t go amiss here.” I point out.
“Listen. We are not going to let a dangerous Spellweaver, the Ellith kid, and a... thing walk right into Naroth–“
"Certainly you will.” Koreth says pointedly , tilting his head to the windows through which the sun is long gone over the horizon, “Think for a moment. If we really are against you, surely the great armies of Hanora can handle us? And if we’re not, you have three people willing to step behind enemy lines and destroy some cities for you. Either way, you’re rid of us, you win.”
The Councilcreeps all look sorely tempted by this idea, as well as not very willing to be set on fire by the spell, go figure. Of course, I highly doubt Naroth is a match for Koreth’s spell, however, if the Council points that out, they’ll be contradicting all their years of ranting about Hanoran greatness.
“Yeah, listen to us!” I shout, just for good measure.
“I think I liked you better when you didn’t talk. Try that again, will you?” the Councilwoman grumbles. “Very well. I’ll write your pass.” She rips to top off a slip of paper on her desk and begins to scribble something on it with a strange looking pen. Several unnecessary flourishes later, she tosses it over to us with an equally unnecessary snort of contempt. “Hurry up and be gone. We’ve more important things to deal with.”
I’m not quite willing to argue with someone who has, after all, just granted me my way into Naroth, no matter how PMS-y she gets. I ignore.
“Thank you for your time.” Koreth adds with a small measure of sarcasm as we walk out the door.
* * * * *
Evidentially, Chirenians of the non-Council variety are capable of such things as gratitude, because they’re willing to provide us with food and somewhere to sleep. Good thing, because the sun has set and it’s not a great idea to go hiking up to Naroth in the dark, particularly with crazed Sareilian Beast-Manipulators walking around. Besides that, I haven’t consumed any food or food-like substance since the scrambled egg disaster I cooked for breakfast back in Phoenix.
Anyway, they give us each a simple room in one of their inns, spartan but at least clean. Whoever runs the place has left food for me, and I can’t help but think of it as being like leaving something out for the dog, but I eat it all without even looking at what it is before flopping down half-awake on the bed.
I stare blankly for a bit at the big cracked ceiling, forming pictures from the lines the way I used to back last year in the hospit–
DON’T THINK ABOUT THAT.
Right, right. I promised myself I wouldn’t, huh? I won’t hold a grudge. I won’t. Friends don’t hold grudges...
Anyway, I don’t want to think about it.
But... did it... you know, really happen?
Did it really happen?
Did it?
The memories you have are not your own.
I close my eyes and try to shut them out, these crazy, demented thoughts, but try as I might, the last thing that echoes in my mind’s ear is that hateful whisper of the voice, echoing in my head and across the golden towers and the dying sun and the trembling aspens.
------------
Ah, yes, chapter six. This is, and has always been, my least favorite LoSLoR chapter, hands down. Looking back, the fight scene isn't as atrocious as I remember, but I'm REALLY uncomfortable with the second half of the chapter, specifically, Emma's decision, or as a friend and I have nicknamed it, "Emma's Sailor Moon moment". It feels extremely forced and out of character to me, I hated writing it and I hate reading it. It feels like she was channeling Attaraya for a bit, waaay off-model for her.
Unfortunately, it has to happen, because if I don't get the cast to Naroth, the plot stops here. Really. This is pretty much the end. Without that decision, the story can't progress.
So... I'm asking for help with that bit. Anyone got advice on... how to tweak that scene so that what Emma's doing feels more... Emma-ish? I feel pathetic even having to ask that, since if I don't know my characters that much, who can? But I really do need help, so any advice is welcomed.
And thanks to everyone who's been reading and reviewing this far-- I never thought anyone would deign to read such a mediocre story, ,and you guys make me feel great. It means a lot. ^_^
Read it a loud to yourself, see what you think 
