Haze of Dusk (A trilogy) Page 13

  “Is he…alright?” She breathes out, and views me.

  “He …he’s dead.” I slap my hands on my mouth. My heart squeezes. A jab punctures my abdomen, demolishing any other concerns. I fall ill again...my dragon...my powers. I'm to be blamed. “What have I done…” I hold my tears from rushing down my cheeks. It's difficult to intake her words. Jameson can't be dead.

  “No-no. It's not your fault. He overused his powers trying to fight the dragon. He gave in too much energy, so his heart stopped. It’s not your fault. It’s nobody’s fault.” She assures, but I don’t believe her. I know its deathrow. One of us had to die and although at some point I sought his pain, by no means did I ever want this.

  It’s difficult to swallow the fact that kid is dead. It’s sad he has to die with so much hate and anger in his heart. When he fought me, he wanted to overcome. He wanted me dead. How can anyone want to cause a person so much harm? I won’t lie. In the arena, I intended to do anything to survive. I just never thought the awful news would block my need for nourishment, giving me a slight illness that conjoins with every part of my body, stinging my heart and wobbling my legs. I lay on the bed staring at the plain ceiling. It's the only activity that releases my nerves. Vaniele enters the room. I rise to meet with her. She has clothing is her hands.

  “Today is the day of the verdict, are you well? I can tell Madam you are still unwell then—”

  “It’s alright.” I cut in. “I can go. I'm strong enough.” Really, I want to see Srogeri. I miss him dearly. I want to hug him, and beg for his forgiveness. “Do you know what the punishments are?” I undertone as she places my judgment outfit by my bed. She tenderly smiles and seizes me by my chin. “Worry not. We will never let anyone hurt our future, understood,” she means it. I can tell by the devotion in her eyes. But it is not my life I’m concerned for, but my old man.

  I stare at the reflection the square mirror portrays of me one last time. I’m comfortable with my look, and I’m ready to take the verdict. Whatever it is, they won’t see fear, for us Zayras never show weakness. “This is it… let’s show the world your real face. Why are your cheeks red?” I rub my blushy cheeks. It gives my nerves away. I miss my brother’s perfect skin color, but hell, it feels great to have my face back. My clear gray eyes flicker, my wavy hair is down, touching my lower-waist, split on its side. The black leather pants adjust to my body just right. The taupe sleeveless chemise fits me nicely, the front and back of the shirt is lengthy as the sides are somewhat chopped. For the first time in a while, I see a girl ahead of me, particularly because my busts obtrude my shirt. Either they enlarged over time or I got used to my brother’s thin body. Vaniele smiles to see me.

  “Wow. You look spectacular. The outfit suits you perfect,” my lips rise from a side. “Are you nervous? Everyone in the castle will see you today the way you are.” I chuckle. Yes, but strangely I’m more concerned about my friends’ acceptance than my head being chopped, odd way of thinking Judyala.

  There are two sides to the great hall, the right, where the ribbons stand, and the left, where the kcowls stay clutched, waiting for an outcome. On the central of the immense room stand three of Doomsvell leaders, in their surrounding remains all of Doomsvell instructors, protecting the great ones. Standing out from everyone on the centered platform it is she, the most fearsome woman in all Doomsvell, perhaps the world; Headmistress Srovio, the head of all leaders. I timidly walk the black carpet that leads us to her. The instant ribbon and kcowl members recognize me they vociferously cheer my name. The boys are much louder. I’m staggered by their reaction. I peek at Vaniele, who discreetly smiles at me. In union, we continue walking towards she who awaits. “Judyala marry me!” I frown to hear a boy scream.

  “Be my girl!” another bawls.

  “You’re hot!” alright, these boys need a spanking. I glance at them in a spark, hoping to see my friends, but they are not around. We eventually reach her. She stands still, dangerous and intimidating. She beams at me, falling into a trance. She’s probably shock this girl fought Jameson…this girl stole her brother’s body and dared to break our rules. This girl is a female sorcerer or simply a sorceress. The three men in the golden hood walk near her. They too stare at me stupor. I gulp. The golden hood means power; they are the ones who decide the future of the deceiver. I know they don’t reside in Doomsvell, and by Vaniele, I learned those three men are sent by him, the great lord, Possessor Zorganther. If they are favored as leaders, it means they too are powerful. Who knows how powerful. Most likely stronger than a highest sorcerer, but what can possibly be superior than highest. From the corner of my eye, I see a familiar shiny bald head. Srogeri is surrounded by three castle’s guard. I breathe out strongly to see my old man is incarcerated.

  “Miss Zayras…” It begins. I stand straight, and watch how the headmistress moves closer to me. I assume she’s going to start with her custom bitching, but instead she twirls and observes the skinniest of the leaders, a scrawny-ugly human in his late thirties who seems to be breakable. He holds a golden scroll.

  “Ragumus! Please start,” she commands. Ragumus steps down from the small platform to meet with me; his lip rises from a side, weirdly shaking. He opens up the scroll and clears his throat. “We are here today in the great halls of judgment to give Judyala Zayras of Duolic, and Sorcerer Vin Srogeri of Duolic a verdict for their insensible actions and failure to follow the laws of Doomsvell.” He announces.

  “Judyala Zayras, age 18. Position, vastly-dangerous-highest-witchcraft,” I gasp, insulted by what they rank me as. Witchcraft is considered the magic arclaws use, because they can instantly kill with the eyes, they’re powers are consider dark and wicked. It is an offense, for it means they can easily point me as an enemy. I’m a sorcerer, one who can fight on their side. I want to correct them, defend my rights, but Srogeri lays a finger on his mouth insisting I keep my mouth shut.

  “Time of arrival: fourteen days. In these fourteen days Judyala has...one, committed impertinent acts towards superior heads, three violated rules. Two, committed loud activity acts, eight broken rules. Three, ill-mannered, request facility changes, eight broken rules. Four, provoke and fighting among others—”

  “That wasn’t my fault. He hit me first!” I snap. All eyes turn to me, they’re stunned by my big mouth. Hell, I’m startled myself. Judyala, control your temper. Srogeri shakes his head in dismay. I’m sorry old man. “Interrupt again, and we will add more rule breaking to your record," the headmistress threatens, her eyes on Ragumus. She is so repelled by me she can’t even confront me. Ragumus clears his throat, “provoke and fighting among others… fifteen rule breakages.” I sneer, fifteen rules broken when it wasn’t my fault. Where is the freedom of speech?

  “Four, take another warrior’s identity, fourteen rule breakage. Five, utilize magic inside the castle, the transformation, twenty-five rule breakage. And lastly, with all others of her bad performances that we have not yet mentioned, the rules Judyala Zayras have broken are a total of eighty-four rules in fourteen days…never in our life…have we seen this conduct…this means, instant death.” The man’s voice shakes as he speaks. Is my ill-discipline so overwhelming?

  “What do you have to say for yourself, Miss Zayras?” She asks with her hands on her hips. Damn, and that is discounting the poisoning. This is all Ramuso’s fault.

  “Death, definitely give me death.” I say trying to admit the truth, but my words appear to be amusing, for half the room burst into laughter. Sandrine's eyes rise, and the leaders stare at me stupefy. “Do you have a death wish Miss Zayras?" She hisses. I hear that a lot. "Do you not care about your life?” Her bitching irritates me. I wonder if she's married. If she is, I pity the poor fool, with her bragging anyone would want to suicide. “We all die someday,” I clearly state. Yes, keep talking crap, Judyala. They’re seriously going to hang you. She scoffs, staring at me in dismay. From the corner of my eyes, I see a familiar man. It’s Khysso, and his glower is mysteriously obscured.

>   “Since Miss Zayras doesn’t care about her life, perhaps she cares about others. Announce Srogeri’s verdict,” my eyes rise. I shake my head in panic.

  “For betraying, lying, and deceiving our court, Vin Srogeri will be punished with immediate death.”

  “No wait! It wasn’t his fault it was mine. I made him do it!” I raise my voice. They stare stump by my tone. “Please leave him out of this…please…give him a second chance.” I lower my tone, for him, I’ll lose my pride.

  “But… I thought someday we all die,” that bitch, did she just rank me down with my own words. I’m going to go hectic. If they give me no choice, I swear I will fight. “Don’t hurt him…I’ll do anything. Take me instead.” I insist, now they know my weak point is my old man.

  “Oh, but we are not done…continue with her verdict.” I don’t know what it is, but that woman can wake up the flames in me. “Judyala Zayras, since your witchcraft can be used for the castle, we have decided to forgive immediate death and condemn you by immediately sending you to mount cavern of death, where the sleeping dragon slumbers.” Everyone talks at once. I sense they fear my condemnation. I scowl. I don’t have a clue of what the cavern of death is. It sounds chilling, but is it deadly?

  “We will give you one entire day for survival. If not arrived past the next sundown with one of the heads of the dragon, Srogeri will lose his head. However, if you bring one of the heads of the dragon, we shall grant Srogeri life, and instant forgiveness to you.” I pant. That’s not so bad. If I come back, I save both of us, but if I die, then we will be fifteen feet deep within the ground. Sounds...fair...I guess.

  “Do you understand what this means, Miss Zayras? The life of your beloved is in your hands. You die…he dies,” can she say it a little crueler. I seriously hate this bitch. “Perfect!” I say nastily, and they noticed. She stares at me stupor. I roll my eyes at her. “K- Khysso Shorewen,” she calls with a squeal. Khysso comes out from the instructors group and walks towards her. He bows to her. I scoff. I'm amazed by the intimidation this woman causes the prick. Never did I think he would look up to someone. “You have been chosen to lead, Miss Zayras to the cavern, and wait for her. If by the next sundown she's not out, the cavern will be closed by you, and she will be left inside, understood,” she loves commanding.

  “Yes, Madam,” he agrees with a nod.

  “Prepare yourselves, in one-hourglass you shall depart. Verdict is over,” she shouts and walks away with her slaves…I mean companions. Khysso’s eyes meet mine. “You have one hour to prepare yourself,” he utters and looks down at the floor. I scoff. “I heard her. I'm not deaf.” I say nastily, disliking him for being a male whore. He lifts his head, staring at me in dismay. I pull a face, demonstrating my repulsion towards him with my nasty-expression. I hurry away from him, leaving him alone. I run to Srogeri, whom the guards now take.

  “Wait…” I shout. They halt for a moment. I try giving my old man a hug but one of the guards points his staff at me. “You move that away from me before I blow your ass into pieces.” I threaten. The guard's eyes rise. I can see a sudden anxiety.

  “Let them speak!” Vaniele commands from a distant. I childishly taunt the guard. They move away from us. “Do you have to be reckless?” He scolds. I purse my lips, “I’m sorry, for this…this is all my fault,” he places a hand on my head.

  “It is not your fault….wear that stone… and come back to me,” he whispers. I chuckle. “Definitely…I won’t let it go. I promise.” Not a day with your body and already lying, Judyala. You should be ashamed of yourself.

  “Judyala, let us prepare you.” Vaniele calls. She is my watch guard ordered by the headmistress. But unlike Srogeri, I’m fond of Vaniele, and I trust her. I kiss Srogeri's polished forehead, and sadly watch the guards take him away.

  Hendra is her name, my given black with gold draghorn, but unlike many I’ve seen, she’s different, she’s beautiful. She resembles more a horse, with plenty of hair to grab and a horse snout. Her eyes are green, and her wings are gristly yet the combination of colors makes her an outstanding creature. It’s her tail that’s thick and long, dragging the floor. I caress her hair. She is at still and is very lovable.

  “Here, you will need this,” Vaniele gives me a bag with six large pouches of water, and plenty of antidotes. “It’s really hot in there. You are going to need all the water you can carry.” I smile at her.

  “Thanks for everything. Take care of my old man…although he hates you…” I say thoughtful. She giggles. I peek at Khysso, who waits on his draghorn. We are outside the castle, near the gateway to the outside world. The hour is passing by. My time to leave has arrived. “If I don’t make it—”

  “Judyala! You will make it back. I will see you soon.” Her positive words twist my skin. What an optimistic way of thinking. “Now go…he awaits,” I nod. I'm about to hop on my draghorn who sits, but loud howling swipes my attention. I gaze straight to the path to find familiar faces. Their appearance pushes my heart down my tummy. I wobble. Their presence makes me sappy.

  “You’re not going to leave without saying good-bye," Ramuso yells, with him are the rest. My body jolts me to them, and although Vaniele cries my name, I overlook her concern. My friends are more important. I toss my hands around Ramuso and closely embrace him. He briskly returns my hug, chortling. “You can do that now… it was weird when you tried before, but now it’s good,” he jokes. Oh yes, the times I tried to hug him forgetting I was a boy, were numerous.

  I pull away and caress his cheeks, “so good to see you.” I whisper, my gentleness making him anxious. I can tell for he rubs the back of his head. “What about my hug?” Osys says, but Onnet quickly requests one too. I rush to them and hug them both. Onnet inhales my aura, his head on my neck,

  “I kind of figured it out. Your smell is so delightful. It did not suit you before…hmmm...so good…” Onnet’s weirdness freaks me out, so I yank from him in a nervous laughter.

  On a corner, I see Ikumus, still a lone-wolf and dry like a dehydrated rose. I step a foot to go to him.“Don’t even think about it. Nothing has changed.” He says as if reading my mind. I chuckle. Seriously, that fellow has problems. I sigh, lastly meeting with him, sweet Corr. He stands smiley. Meeting with him my cheeks burn. His face still takes my breath away. I walk towards him, afraid to embrace him like the others. It is different with him. There are emotions in me I don’t want to reveal.

  “This is for you, from all of us,” he hands me a brown shoulder bag. “For your adventure.” I press my lips together, and look inside. Inside there are three knives, in which belongs to Corr. It is his valuable knives, once belonged to his brother. I smile at him, and continue digging— an amethyst amulet draws my attention, for it belonged to Ramuso’s deceased mother, it means the world to him. I'm surprised he's giving it to me. I pull it out, and put it around my neck, showing him I’ll value it and always carry it with me. “It looks good on you,” he says diffidently.

  “Of course it does, it’s for girls.” Onnet bothers him as usual, but Ramuso counterattacks him by reminding him of his love for knitting.

  I continue digging. Inside there is a knitted ball. I purse my lips and radically confuse I pull it out. “It’s made with Isolia,” he adds. I gasp, finally understanding. Isolia is a powerful mist that in contact with pressure it explodes bringing out a drowsy fog.

  “Thanks, I’ll definitely need it for my adventure,” I say. I search more in the bag. An arrow in a wooden case takes my breath away. It can’t be. Ikumus is gifting me his rare golden arrow— deadly if touched. The paralyzing poison is bound to work on anything. I gape dumbfounded. I view him. He crosses his hands and looks away. “He really likes you. Don’t tell him I told you.” Corr whispers. I giggle. That’s hard to believe. I rest down the arrow and take out the last thing inside the bag, a metallic boot string. I gape disoriented.

  “It’s my lucky string.” Osys says making us break into laughter.

  “Enough time wasted. Ju
dyala, let us go!” Khysso commands. I chuckle annoyed by his voice. “Whatever, prick,” I murmur. My friends hysterically laugh at my comment, Ramuso high fives me, now I've really joined the, I hate Khysso team.

  “Thank you. All of you…Corr…” I blush. I want to hug him, but fear holds me back. I breathe in and lean forward. I press my lips on the corner of his mouth. Pulling from him our eyes meet. Before he notices my redness I hurry to my draghorn. I hop on Hendra, and wave good-bye. I'm thrilled to return. For they have confirmed to be my real friends after all.

  - 13 -

  Deadly Flames

  Cavern of death is between the northern and southern war castle. It's on the highest mountain of Rock grotto land. A critical place filled with arclaws, giant ogres, and orcs. We have no choice but to leave our draghorns beneath the hills, and climb on foot for the draghorns alone call the arclaws thirst. Meaning, they will consider our rides their meals. “Go to a secure area. Come back past sunset.” Khysso pats his draghorn’s head. I smile. It’s the first time I see Khysso being lovely. His draghorn must be his confider. Shockingly, the draghorn nods, and stretches its wings flying away. My Hendra follows Khysso’s draghorn as if she too understood his command. I seal my lips. I wonder if that's Jabil, the same draghorn we rode years ago.

  “Come!” Khysso orders and heads to a plain path that escalates to the top. I follow him, but he moves quick leaving me behind. I try to walk at his pace, but he moves faster, as if he wants to avoid me. My gut tells me he’s angry at me, for he frowns, and ignores my concerns. Could it be he’s mad, for I nastily talked to him at the great hall?

  The suns are fading yet the temperature still burns. The air fairly suffocates me. My delicate skin rapidly reddens, and I hear myself wheeze heavy breaths. Since the outside training I’ve become stronger, and I can walk longer without complaining. Also, I feel as if my body has toned up.