Falling Skyward

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Shadows Gather Behind

Lana batted at the ash swirling in the air before her. She and the others had done what they could to put out the fires and stabilize the injured, but the village was in chaos, and Lana could see murder in many of the residents' eyes.

"It's not safe here, Dawson. We need to leave, now!" Taren shouted, hastily throwing food and clothing into his satchel.

"But what about justice, Taren? Who is going to make sure these men pay for what they did to Zoram and those shadoweaters?"

"Do you want to end up like them?"

"Taren is right," Zoram said, his voice flavored with a peculiarly strong and soothing accent. "There is a time for justice, but we cannot see it done with so few numbers. We must leave."

"Then come with us, Zoram," Dawson pleaded. "You are not fit to travel on your own, and I will not leave you here."

"I will not go there." Zoram's voice deepened, turning threatening. "I have seen what Soren does. I have seen what they did to you. I will not go. I would rather face the nightstalkers alone." His voice was heavy, every word deliberate, spoken with perfect, crisp articulation.

"Don't be foolish, Zoram. You cannot travel alone," Taren said, exhaustion heavy in his voice.

"I am not the fool. You are the fools for walking straight into that blackened pit."

Taren pinched the bridge of his nose before massaging his temples. "Fine. You leave us no choice. Zoram, you can travel north with Dawson, back to the Imaman, where you can find safety and rest to recover. Lana and I will continue east." Zoram held Taren's eyes for a long moment before nodding. Taren and Zoram ransacked the house for food and supplies while Dawson and Lana went to the stables to retrieve their horses.

"I guess this might be the last time I see you," Lana said, trying not to let the sorrow bleed through her voice.

"Time and the world tend to work in circular patterns. I have a feeling we might come across each other again," he replied.

"The funny thing is, the first time I met you, I felt for sure I knew you from somewhere. But, considering we come from different worlds, it must have been from another life."

"Maybe. Or maybe serendipity was stepping in."

Lana smiled. She'd miss Dawson's mystical optimism. "I think it is wonderful, what you are doing for Zoram, that you are going to such lengths to help a friend."

"It's nothing compared to what he's done for me. Zoram is more than a friend—he's a father to me."

"How did you meet?"

"My mother was an Imaman, a princess—heir to the throne actually."

"Women can rule in your kingdom?"

"Not in Altymia. But the Imaman do not limit authority by gender or age. Respect and royalty are to be earned. Zoram came with my mother to the palace after her marriage was arranged—a superstitious union meant to fulfill an ancient prophecy."

"Prophecy?" Lana started jogging to keep pace with Dawson's long strides.

"Yes. The prophecy states that when the sign of the soother appeared in the sky, marking his coming, a child, an heir of two kingdoms, would be born who would vanquish the growing darkness and restore order to the three peoples."

"Three peoples?"

"Yes, the Imaman, the Altymians, and the Etherie, the shadoweaters."

"What is the sign of the soother?"

"The soother is another of our myths. You see, when Lithia had her voice ripped from her, she lived the remainder of her days alone in the desert. But she was still with child, and legend says her child was cursed like its mother to remain voiceless. Alone, the child sought companionship with the vile, lesser creatures of the world. That was said to be the start of the Etherie race, human creatures born without tongue or mouth.

"But the gods, though they cursed Lithia for what she had done, felt love and compassion for her and her sacrifice. So from her tears they created a soother, a being who would come to the world in times of terrible heartbreak and share the pains and agony of those who suffered, someone who could be a companion to Lithia and feel her joys and share her pains. The sign of the soother appears when a certain star is hung in the heavens on a night the sky cries stars."

"And did he come, like the prophecy said?"

"No," Dawson shook his head, a sad look in his eyes. "No, these are just silly stories." His voice sounded uncharacteristically rough, broken with emotion.

"If your parents married to fulfill the prophecy, does that mean you are the child who was meant to rule two kingdoms, to bring peace to your people?"

Dawson's eyes fell, the lines of pain and anger deepening in his face. "I told you. They were just silly stories. I am not the child they spoke of."

Lana could sense she was on treacherous ground, but she couldn't leave this village without answers.

Lana stopped in her tracks, forcing Dawson to look her straight in the eyes. "Why won't Zoram come with us? What are you and Taren hiding from me?"

Dawson breathed deeply. He placed his hand on Lana's shoulders. "I'm not sure if I should be the one to tell another man's secrets."

Lana fumed, her eyes sparking blue. "But you are leaving me, leaving with a man who is afraid of traveling exactly where we are heading, for reasons no one will tell me. Do you know how terrifying and agonizing that is?"

Dawson nodded before saying, "Lana, it's because Taren and I are hiding our guilt."

Lana stepped away, shaking her head slightly. "Guilt? What do you mean?"

"Listen, the man Taren is taking you to, Soren, he is a man of great ideals—but sometimes the methods he uses to achieve those ideals are . . . Sometimes when a man is exposed to the dark recesses of life, he begins to think the world only holds pain and darkness and that the only way you can make a difference is through force. That's what Taren and I thought. We were some of Soren's most passionate followers. We wanted to make a difference. We wanted to do something, be someone. And Soren's ideas all made such perfect sense that it became easy to justify. The means didn't matter as long as the end was what you wanted it to be. I was young at the time, so I didn't know the full extent of what went on—Taren protected me from the worst of it. Even then, I still have nightmares from those days—the things we did."

Dawson's gaze moved beyond Lana's face. "Let's just say men do things they normally wouldn't during war, and every day was a kind of war for us."

Lana felt like some part of her should be surprised, confused, appalled even. But then she thought of Gailen's screams. She thought of the creature who had set this village aflame and tried to strangle her, and all she felt was satisfaction.

The two finished their chore in silence, returning to the house with horses and saddles in tow.

As the four travelers said their final farewells, Zoram approached Lana.

"Ne'alwy sa'eoin," he said. "May the light fall before you and the shadows gather behind. I'm sorry to part ways with you, Etherie talker. I hope your path brings you happiness." Zoram placed his hand over his heart before kissing his fingers and brushing them across Lana's forehead. As his dark skin touched hers, Lana was filled with a flood of emotion—longing, confusion, and a conflicted sorrow, as though their parting violated the will of the gods. Along with Zoram's emotion, words stroked her mind, more felt than heard. "You possess a great gift, Etherie talker—unlike anything I have witnessed before. No one understands its possibilities, least of all you. I will ask one last time. Come with me, and you will understand your own mind better." Lana recoiled from the invitation, terrified at the prospect.

"I can't. I have to save my cousin, my family."

"Very well, it is your choice. You do not know what lies ahead, but I hope you are spared the darkness. Remember, monsters come in many forms, the most dangerous of all being those we do not see in ourselves. I hope our paths cross again."