Blood of Decusia

Chapter Eighteen

I was back in the clearing I had first entered when I came to Decusia, but something was different. It took me a second to realize it was the sounds. I could hear small creatures scurrying over dead leaves near me, the flap of wings above my head, the chittering of all sorts of forest animals. The forest I had come to know in Decusia was always deadly quiet, all sorts of life wiped out after the attack of the Malum.
"Clove."
The soft voice snapped me out of my thoughts. The voice was familiar, but I couldn't place it.
"Clove," it called again.
I whirled around, but there was nothing there.
"Clove," it called again and I realized that it was beckoning me, asking me to follow.
As the voice continued to whisper my name, I made my way deeper and deeper into the forest. Above me, the moon hung high and the stars were shining brighter than I had ever seen. A part of me wanted to stop and stare at them for hours, but I continued to follow the disembodied voice.
I finally entered another clearing, larger than the one I had first arrived in. In the middle of this clearing was a beautiful willow tree. Unlike the willow trees I had seen pictures of, this one was pink and in the moonlight, seemed to sparkle, as if it was covered in lightning bugs.
Under the tree I could see a figure sitting on a bench. I realized the voice had stopped calling me and I knew this was the person calling to me. As I slowly walked toward the tree, I could see the person was a woman. Her back was to me and she was staring into the trees beyond. She must've heard me, but she didn't turn as I made my way over to her.
As I stopped directly behind her, a familiar smell lingered in the air. It smelled of vanilla and sugar. I let out a gasp as I realized where I knew that smell.
Mom.
"Hello, Clove."
She turned to face me and I covered my mouth as I tried to hold back a sob. She was exactly as I remembered her. She had long wavy brown hair like mine, and the same deep blue eyes that always had a sort of sparkle to them. I remembered my reflection back at the castle and realized that we really did look a lot alike.
"Mom," I whispered, sinking to the ground.
She put a hand to my cheek and wiped away a tear that was running down my cheek. She smiled, but it was full of sadness.
"I miss you," I said, "I need you."
"Clove," she said, "You're stronger than you know."
"How am I supposed to do this?" I was sobbing now, "I'm not a hero, I'm not a warrior. I'm just me."
"And that's even better," she answered.
I put a hand to my necklace. I could feel it starting to warm under my fingertips.
"I can't do it," I said, "I don't know how."
"Yes you do," she whispered, "You just have to let go."
"Let go?" I asked, "Let go of what?"
She put her other hand on my cheek, so now she was cupping my face.
"Let go of  your fear," she said, "Your doubt. Everything that's holding you back and keeping you from who you can be."
"How?"
"You'll know."
Her voice was suddenly sounding really far away. My vision had now started to blur a little bit, my mom coming in and out of focus.
"Mom, please don't leave me!" I sobbed, reaching forward and only feeling air.
My world started spinning.
"Mom!" I called again.
    My whole body was aching, especially my head. I tried to open my eyes, but it was like they were glued shut. I could barely make out voices around me, because of the ringing in my ears.
    "She's still alive."
    The ringing cleared and I could make out the voices.
    "She's really pale," one of them was saying.
    "She won't wake up," this one sounded frantic, "I don't know what to do."
    Someone grabbed my hand.
    "She's still cold," the first voice said.
    "Shut up!" the frantic voice barked, "Shut up, Warner! I can see her! I'm not asking you to describe what she looks like. I'm asking for help!"
    "Ok," Warner responded softly, "I'm sorry, man."
    Slowly, I tried to open my eyes again. At first, I thought they were still closed because all I saw initially was blackness. But then my eyes focused and I could see the night sky high above the trees and the shadows dancing on the leaves. Shadows made from a fire that was a few feet away.  I could feel the warmth against my skin.
    I couldn't see Marcus or Warner, but I could still hear them.
    "Why did we let her hold the dagger?" Marcus was saying, "That much power could've killed her."
    "It should've killed her," Warner said, quietly.
    "What the hell, Warner?"
    "No, listen," Warner answered, "It should've killed her. I mean according to legend,it should've. No one can hold that much power without being consumed by it, unless you're  all  powerful or whatever. It eithers kills you or changes you."
    "Changes you?"
    Warner sighed.
    "It takes your soul, warps it into something twisted and dark. Darker than anything that lives in those mountains. Evil beyond evil."
    "That sounds like a load of shit," I muttered, weakly.
    "Clove?"
    All of a sudden, my vision was filled with the concerned and surprised faces of Marcus and Warner. When they saw me staring back at them, big smiles erupted on their faces.
    "Holy shit!" Marcus exclaimed.
    They helped me into a sitting position. My body exploded with pain and a wave of nausea came over me.
    "Hey, hey," Warner soothed, "You're ok. Take it easy."
    After a second, everything passed. I looked around, seeing that we were indeed surrounded by trees.
    "Are we back in the forest?"
    Marcus shook his head.
    "Not the one you're thinking of," he answered, "This is a small patch of woods about 20 miles from Majestas."
    "What happened? How did I get here?"
    "You passed out," Marcus said, "We managed to bribe a driver to take us as far as the next village over. News had already reached them about us, so we ran into these woods that was just outside the border of the village."
    I noticed they had traded their fine suits for tight black shirts and black pants, which looked similar to my own. Each of them also carried a bag hefted over their shoulders.
    "Clove," Warner started gently, "What happened to you?"
    "We thought you had died," Marcus said, his voice shaking slightly, "You were so pale and cold."
    "It was almost like when we got attacked in the forest," Warner continued, "But different."
    "Different?"
    Warner shot Marcus a look.
    "Your face," Marcus jumped in, "When we were in the forest, you had this calm look on your face, there was even a kind of glow to it."
    He hesitated for a minute.
    "But back in Majestas, you looked like you were in pain."
    "You looked  dead," Warner finished.
    I looked  away from their worried expressions and examined my body. I looked fine on the outside, but on the inside, I could still feel a little bit of that cold burn. I don't know what happened, but we didn't have time to dwell on it. I reached to my side for the blade, but it wasn't there. Panic began to rise in my chest and I started to hyperventilate.
    "Hey, hey," Warner said, putting a hand on my shoulder, "Clove!"
    "Where-where?"
    I couldn't get the words out.
    "I got it! I got it!" Marcus said, pulling out the dagger, "It's alright! I have it!"
    The sight of him holding it sent a wave of relief through my body and slowly I calmed down.
    "We figured it was better for Marcus to hang on to it," Warner said, "We can't risk what happened in Majestas happening again."
    "Ok," I muttered, my heart rate going back to normal.
    I braced myself and shakily got to my feet, Marcus ready to catch me if  I stumbled.
    "How far are we from Tenebris?" I asked.
    Marcus and Warner exchanged a look.
    "A day out I would say," Warner answered, "Maybe a little shorter."
    "Ok," I said, "We rest tonight and then leave first thing in the morning."
    "Are you sure?" Marcus said, "You're still weak and you're going to need your energy before you face him."
    "And then some," Warner murmured.
    I stared hard back at Marcus.
    "We can't afford to waste anymore time," I said, "We have what we need to face him. If we wait too long, it will be too late. I'll be fine."
    For a long moment, there was silence as they both just stared at me.
    "I'm going to scout the perimeter," Warner finally said, "Make sure we weren't followed by the King's men."
    He disappeared into the night, leaving me and Marcus alone. I turned and slowly sat down in front of the fire, the coldness inside me slowly thawing away from the heat. Marcus sat down on the opposite side from me, so we were facing each other. For a long time, neither of us spoke or even looked at each. We both stared at the flames, both unsure what to say. We hadn't talked about our fight back at Lupidium.
    After what seemed like centuries, I opened my mouth to say something, but Marcus jumped in.
    "When I was kid," he said, "Warner and I didn't get along. Growing up, we were even in every aspect of training. Tracking, hunting, trap making, you name it. Everyone could see it, other pups, teachers, even Romulus and Adolphus. They all knew that  we were going to be some of the strongest warriors ever and we were on Alpha and Beta track. Even though we were so evenly matched, we were never put together in sparring."
    "Why?" I whispered, unsure why he was telling me this story.
    "The belief is that the Alpha and Beta needed to be in perfect unison. They needed to be connected as one person. Our teachers believed that if we sparred, one of us would be killed. So instead, they tried to push us to team up in other ways, like patrol. However, we didn't trust each other and there was such a disconnect. We couldn't understand each other and couldn't work with each other."
    A sad smile came across his face.
    "One day, my father told me to meet him a few miles outside the village for some extra training. When I arrived, Warner was also there too. Before I  could say anything, my father told us to throw our weapons on the ground. As a Warrior, we had to listen. He took them up and said, "Fight,". Then he just left."
    My own father was one of the gentlest men I had ever known. The more I learned about this place, the more I came to realize that like my brother, I really did not know anything about  my father. He had lived here for decades and not only this, he had risen through the ranks and became the second in command.
    "After a brief moment of just staring at each other, we started fighting. I don't know who took the first punch, but it  didn't matter. We had never fought each other before and we quickly realized that everyone was right, we were so evenly matched.
    Growing up, we were taught to analyze our enemies' patterns and fighting style. Unfortunately for us, we had identical patterns so we were matching each other punch for punch, kick for kick. After about an hour, we were tired, bloodied, and bruised. After that, we were  inseparable, the team everyone wanted us to be. All it took was us beating the shit out of each other."
    I didn't respond, unsure of what to say. He took a deep breath and for the first time, looked at me. I found myself  being pulled in by his eyes, the grayish blue reminding me of the stormy sea.
    "I owe my father so much, the greatest being Warner. Before him, I never had anyone that I would give my life for in an instant, besides my family. This type of sacrifice is something that's essential around here and my father gave me that."
    I finally understood why he was telling me this story. He was trying to explain to me why he kept the truth behind my family from me. His father, the only blood relative he had, had been taken away because of the choices my brother made. It killed him to lie to me, I could see, but he felt it was the right thing to do. He could see how I was struggling with this new life and he knew the importance of preserving a memory of a loved one and he didn't want anything to marr the memories of my family.
    After a long pause, I took a deep breath.
    "I understand why you did it," I whispered, avoiding his gaze and staring into the flickering flames, "I don't like it, but I understand."
    That seemed to satisfy Marcus. He reached down and pulled something out of his bag and tossed it to me. It was pastry, similar to the one he had given me the night we met.
    "Smuggled it from breakfast," he muttered.
    I hadn't realized how hungry I was and shoved the whole thing in my mouth, the sweet berry jam inside, bursting over my tongue.
    "You should rest," he said, after a long pause.
    I was about to argue when a yawn escaped my lips. Even though I had been knocked out for hours, my body still felt heavy. I laid on my back, feeling the heat of the flames against my body and let sleep envelope me.