Read Star Rising: Heartless Online

Authors: Cesar Gonzalez

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Science Fiction

Star Rising: Heartless (15 page)

Chapter 15

 

Falling into his dream was easy. Xalen had worked so hard, his body quickly succumbed to sleep. The hard part came later, as the scenes in his mind developed. His dreams were filled with scenes of faceless men and women. They gave voice to the dark, wicked fears hidden in his conscious mind that he didn’t want to revisit. Obviously, his unconscious mind held no such reservations.

“Look at him,” wheezed a woman. “He has no heart.”

Xalen looked down, suddenly aware that he was shirtless. The metal circle at the center of his chest glowed a bright silver.

“He’s a freak,” added the voice of another woman.

More faceless forms rose from the ground. The black and white apparitions grew in number, until they completely encircled him. They yelled at him, taunting him with his deepest insecurities.

“Someone with no heart can never trully feel.”

“Born a monster. Always a monster.”

“He will never love anyone. He’s heartless. A simple creature that will never be accepted by anyone.”

They closed in on him.

Xalen found it hard to breathe. Hard to think. Impossible to move.

“Leave me alone,” he cried.

The forms ignored him. They inched closer.

“Xalen! Xalen! Snap out of it!”

The voice that broke into his dream was the complete opposite of the hushed sneers of the faceless forms.

“Hey, snap out of it,” called the cheery voice once more.

Xalen felt a sudden warmth enveloped him. A heavy feeling came over him, making it impossible to breathe.

His eyes snapped open. He immediately closed them and opened them again, trying to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. Ifi was over him. Not just over him, but directly on top of him. She had an arm wrapped around him, and she was holding him close. She ran her other hand through his hair. Her scent was that of milk and honey crème. Xalen noticed for the first time that her hands were fuzzy as well. The under part of her hands were a soft pink, much like an animal’s paws. But at the moment, he was much too shocked to give the girl’s hand too much thought.

“What are you doing?” he asked, shoving her back.

“What?” she asked quizzically.

“Why are you in my tent?”

“I heard you having a nightmare.”

He stammered, “Y…yes, but I still don’t see what you’re doing here, hugging me.”

“I would think that is quite obvious. We’re friends now. And we Kringtons don’t let our friends go through hard times without embracing them.” She spoke matter of factly, as if there was nothing strange in what she’d done.

“Well, for us humans, going into someone’s tent and hugging them while they sleep is weird.”

“Why? Don’t you want your friends to be happy?”

“Well, yes. But that’s not the way to do it.”

Ifi looked genuinely confused. “Why not? Don’t you like hugs?”

“Yes,” admitted Xalen.

“Then I think you humans are the strange ones. Hugs make everything better.”

Xalen swallowed hard, realizing that Ifi was still on top of him. He was suddenly very aware of how loud they were. Had the others woken up? What would Nandi think of Ifi being in his tent in the middle of the night?

“You need to go,” he said, his voice rising slightly.

Ifi let him go and moved back. “Fine. Fine. I’ll leave you alone, don’t get cross.”

Xalen remained quiet as the Krington girl crawled out the tent, taking her honeyed scent with her. As she went, the smile that she always wore on her face remained intact.

In contrast, Xalen frowned as he stuck his head out of his tent. The other tents, lined in a neat row besides his, were all unmoving. Satisfied that no one else seemed to have woken up, he laid back down.

Unfortunately, sleep did not come for him the remainder of the night. The low hum of the wind and occasioanal cry of a lonesome cricket were his lone companions as he dwelled in thought.

The Black Sanction? Did they hold the answers to his past?
These were just some of the many questions floating around his head. Perhaps next time he saw Reave, he would ask him. Though the way everyone spoke, it didn’t seem like he would be getting a chance to see him anytime soon.

 

ΩΩΩ

 

There was a loud roar of elation. Had Xalen not already been awake, he was certain he would have been woken up by the unnatural sound.

Curious, and a bit scared, he sped out of his tent. He wasn’t the only one. All his Alioth companions had emerged from their tents as well.

“What was that sound, lad? asked Smyuiles, looking directly at Xalen.

“How am I supposed to know,” Xalen retorted.

“Hiyaaaaaa!”

The scream reverbeated once more.

“It came from Sensei Wize’s tent,” shrieked Ifi. A aura of dread was engraved on her face. She sprinted toward the largest tent, easily thirty times the size of the students’ tents. Every one else followed behind her.

When they pushed the tarp aside and made their way into the tent, they were welcomed with the most awkward of scenes. Xalen had half expected to run into a wild animal that had snuck into the tent. Or perhaps some type of exploding vial caused by a mixture of chemicals. Instead, they came upon a dancing plump lady. She rattled her body from side to side. Her hands flailed in the air and her face was cherry red.

“I did it. I did it,” she cheered.

“You figured out a way to stop the Deargs?” asked Xalen. There was excitement in his voice. The few days he’d spent on Boilye had passed in slow, agonizing torment. Was he finally going to be set free?

Wize settled down for a second. “A way to stop the Deargs?” She looked utterly bewildered. “Why no. I found my lucky sock.”

The Alioths in training, with the exception of Ifi, all brought their hands to their noses.

The sensei held up a old sock that seemed to be begging to be put out of its misery. It reeked of death. It was filthy; any softness was long gone, replaced by a crust of dirt. A blob of mold, bubbling with life, had even been etched to fabric scrap trying to pass as a mundane sock.

“That’s it?” asked Nandi, a second before Xalen could voice that very question. “All this fuss was over an old sock?”

“Not just any sock. Didn’t you hear me earlier, girl? This is my lucky sock. I thought I had lost it, but turns out it was hiding away in my lab case all along.” She pointed at an opened black suitcase that had been thrown on the floor. “Now that I have located it, I am certain that the fortunes will smile on us. A breakthrough is coming. I’m know it.”

Ifi looked absolutely giddy. “That is so great. I knew you would not fail us!”

“Right…” said Nandi sarcastically. “This is such a breakthough.”

“I’m glad you see it that way,” said Wize, obvlivious to Nandi’s sarcasm. “I trust there will be no objections then when I send you to the outskirts of the valley. I have a strong sense that the samples there will provide much more fruitful results.”

“None from me,” said Nandi. “Anything to get as far from you lot as possible.”

“Take one of the boys with you,” said Wize, almost as an afterthought. “I need a lot of red sand samples. It will be too much for you to carry.”

“I don’t want to go with no traitor,” said Smyuiles.

“Neither do I,” blurted out Roerkel. He did not look one bit pleased. “Everyone knows her sister was feeding information to Yashvir during his attack, and I wager anything that she’s doing the same for the Black Sanction.” His mop of hair swirled wildly as he shook his head. “Nope. I won’t be left alone with her where I’ll be easy prey fo—”

It happened in a millisecond. One moment Roerkel was enthralled in his speech. The next he was clutching his bleeding nose. The red liquid poured from where Nandi’s fist had connected and collected on the dirt below.

“Speak ill of my sister one more time…” threatened Nandi, bringing her metaton to Roerkel’s chest. “…and I’ll blow a hole where your worthless heart is.”

“See why nobody likes you?” snarled Smyuiles. “Your entire race is a lot of wild animals. Solving everything with violence. That’s all you know. That’s all your sister knew. That’s why she died.”

Xalen was expecting Nandi to blast a hole in Smyuiles’s face, or punch him into oblivion. Instead she stood there, hands trembling. For a fleeting moment, he saw an emotion he’d never seen before in Nandi: sadness.

In a sudden revelation, Xalen sensed just how much he’d hurt her. She didn’t have to verbalize it. Betrayal, anger, misery, and disappointment radiated from her like a heated combustion engine. Emotions he knew all too well. After all, had he not also experienced this type of discrimination himself? Had he not also been unjustly judged? A sudden urge to defend Nandi, to show her that she wasn’t alone, sprouted in his chest. It grew, until it threatened to burst from his fingertips, eyes, and mouth.

“Shut up!” Xalen heard himself scream. “Nandi is more honorable than any student I’ve met at Zizor. If there is a wild animal here, it’s you, you and your bleeding friend.”

Smyuiles moved against Xalen. “Why you—”

Wize stood between the Alioths. Her stinky sock remained tightly gripped in a closed fist. “Roerkel. Go down to the river and get yourself cleaned up.”

Roerkel’s shaking intensifried. “But…but…but…she…”

“Do as you’re told,” ordered the short woman. She turned her attention to the Mordered girl. “As for you. I will not have my aides at each other’s necks. I will overlook it this time, but make sure it does not happen again.”

Nandi’s purple skin was tinted red. “Yes, Sensei,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Accompany her, Xalen,” ordered Wize.

“I can do it all on my own,” complained Nandi.

“I wasn’t asking,” countered Wize.

Nandi remained quiet as she left the tent. Xalen followed behind her.

They walked through the long valley, passing countless rock formations, and over a long ravine with a suspension bridge. Had he been alone, he would have had second thoughts about crossing the questionable-looking bridge. Half of the wood slats were missing. But Nandi crossed it without a second thought, so he did the same.

A strong, rusty scent rolled thrugh the air. It wasn’t a pleasant scent. It was the stale stench of sorrow.

“What’s that smell?” asked Xalen, finally breaking the silence. The sun was close to descending, and he was tired of the muted tension.

“We’re getting close to the Red Sands of Desperation,” said Nandi.

“Oh,” said Xalen, trying not to show just how surprised he was that Nandi had actually answered his question without a trace of anger. “Sounds charming.”

“Yes, very charming,” said Nandi sarcastically. “The sands from that area release fumes into the air that intensify your most desperate fears tenfold. It’s not a place we want to spend a long time in. We’ll get samples we need quickly and get out.”

“Okay. Got it,” said Xalen, a bit of fear sneaking into him. How powerful exactly where these sands? Would he turn into a bumbling, crying fool in front of Nandi? The thought made him cringe.

Fortunately, when they arrived at the red sands, Nandi announced that they would stay on the outskirts of the red wasteland. Xalen gulped loudly as he gazed at the crimson sands that seemed to stretch infinitely.

“Fill this up,” said Nandi, tossing a plastic bag his way.

Xalen began to dig as quickly as possible, cursing himself for leaving the camp without a shovel. At his side, Nandi did the same.

About an hour into their job Xalen first felt it. It began as a small twinge of nostalgia in his chest, growing until it had consumed his thoughts. He saw Rund, struggling to provide food to the orphans back at Vintra. He wittnessed himself as an old, wrinkled man. He sat alone inside a rustic cabin, sipping a mug of tea. There were no friends, no aquaintances. Just an elderly man, dying sad and alone.

Nandi did not seem to be faring any better. She frowned and mumbled under her breath. Xalen barely managed to make out the words “I will get it from him, Master. I will…” She stopped talking when she noticed that Xalen was staring at her with great interest.

When they finally dug deep enough to reach the sand Wize required, red with a black tint, they hastily filled their bags to the top.

“Let’s get out of here,” said Nandi.

Xalen didn’t have to be told twice. He stood and retraced their steps. As they moved farther away from the red sands, Xalen felt the heavy load lift off his chest. His foggy mind cleared, and a inkling of happiness took hold of him.

“Are you feeling better?” asked Xalen.

“We need to find a place to spend the night,” said Nandi, not answering his question. “We only have a few minutes of light left.”

Xalen scanned the immediate area around them. To their left was a cliff that rose over fifty feet. To their right was an open expanse of thistles, stones, and sand.

“That looks good,” said Xalen, pointing at a small hole etched into the side of the cliff.

Nandi bobbed her head.

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