Rebelmind Rising

In Northern Skies

It's the light that reveals the monsters and makes the agony of the darkness a thing to be scoffed at. It's the blinding knowledge of the day that will never understand things hidden in the night. Day is limited to its own clamor and knowledge. At night, the clamor of the day falls back, the infinite blackness and light of space speak and somehow answer the monsters in a way that is deeper than the darkness.

Regulus groaned; a stabbing pain burned through his left side. Each breath hurt like hellfire and every time he moved, something clicked and cracked. Searing flesh reminded him that a fire burned inside the rock circle. He fought to rise, the world spinning dizzyingly. Staggering to a pile of blankets in the corner, the lad collapsed, the world dissolving into pain.

*****

Weary to the bone, Jesse set one foot in front of the other, studiously bending to the task. The world around him dissolved into nothingness, and simply became the next piece of shale, the next patch of dirt, or a pile of pine needles. He cared not if he was followed. Pain filled his universe and choked out the stars that wheeled overhead. A grassy glade beside the path caught his eye, staggering over, Jesse collapse. But his sleep was a strange sleep, the type that often holds waking dreams. Days, or weeks must have passed before he awakened, the cold darkness stiffened his joints. Still weary to the bone, Jesse gathered fuel to start a fire. Huddling close to it, he looked up into the northern sky, searching for fingers of aurora writing the answers to his pain. I feel lost, he told the stars, but the funny thing is, I don't want to be found.

Silence sank into his soul, and he stared into the dying embers. In between the ash and coals, the charred wood held glowing caverns. Flames flared here and there as new wood ignited. Tossing the pinecone, he'd been toying with into the fire, Jesse rose to his feet. Somewhere in the seconds since he last stared into the fire, the embers found their way into his heart, and the infinite black silence stole into his mind. His fingers tightened on his brother's bow, the shearing force of his hands bending and shattering the hard wood. A strange resolve hardened in his heart even as the splinters dug to the bone. The frazzled ends finally snapped, and he tossed the longbow aside into the brush. It would only slow him down. Somewhere in this desolate world he'd find a way to forget. He had to. There was nothing else left.

*****

"We need to keep moving north," a slight frown creased Adolar's brow as he studied the crude map in the sand. "We're still not safe from the queen's guard here, and I'm not ready for a full-scale war yet."

Xiomar scowled, "Why haven't you killed him yet?"

Adolar didn't seem to notice. "I received word that Gilmat is gathering his forces at the sea garrison. He's united the coastal tribes and already has amassed several thousand fighters. As he moves to attack us, he'll have to move his troops through passes guarded by Nevermore troops. Queen Hermione will hear of his insurrection and will send troops out to deal with him. She will also be looking for her son. He is a valuable hostage to us, and if need be, we can frame Gilmat's troops for his capture, buying our freedom and his downfall. But we need to cover our tracks. We are still too close to the northern trade route of Nevermore, and patrols still reach this deep into the mountains sometimes. We move out in an hour. Order the men to prepare."

In an hour, twin lines of soldiers and horses creaked up the switchback trail toward the mountain saddle. Regulus trailed Adolar's chestnut mount, a rope stretched from the saddle horn to his wrists, dragging him roughly as he half-fell over the boulders. Bronze helmets glinted bright in the morning light and smooth highlights rippled along the muscles of their horses. Regulus' head throbbed and searing pain clawed at his side. Each breath was ragged and as the band climbed the pass, they began to rasp.