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Kalon
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Chapter Thirty-Two: Varna Tok
Galactic Quadrant: Darna Quadrant
Ruling Government: Talum Merchant Federation
Solar System: D-447
Planet: Ora
Location: Above planet’s surface, compartment inside derelict Destroyer
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My eyes blink twice… is it dead? But how? Why? Thoughts buzz rapidly. Warmth spreading under my thermosuit brings me back to reality. My eyes trace down and I see my blood turning to ice as it drips to the metal floor of the ship. Sekat. What of Arrum? My feet step forward, and my balance almost fails. Stumbling, I manage to make it to Arrum, I shake him. He does not rise. Leaning closer, I can barely see in the moon's glow that he is wounded. Less so than me. Relief washes over me. My head feels dizzy. I need to close our wounds. I try to pull Maka from the air to warm my flesh like the Sage taught me, but something is stopping me, I can’t pull it. My hands pat around the floor looking for the laser cutter. My hands are numb from the cold. I need to hurry or I will die from more than blood loss.
Finding the cutter, fumbling it in my grasp, my hands shake with my body unsteadily as I sear the flesh of my abdomen closed, the blood seeps less freely the deeper it burns. My heart is slowing with each moment that passes, the shock of the fight wearing from me. The masters call it adrenaline, but we call it for what it is, Varna Tok, Warrior’s blood. Without it, my focus is slipping. I must not lose consciousness. If I do, we both die. My cheek burns as I bite into it to keep me sharp. My body wants to sleep. The cold calls to me. Stay awake. My hands are not working properly.
“Arrum!” I yell, slamming him again and again. My muscles are cramping up. I won’t be able to finish. He does not stir. My voice is weaker this time as I say “Arrum…”
There is pain in my shoulder where the Shulka bit me, my eyes trace down and I see the red glow of Netherium deep in my flesh. That’s why I can’t pull Maka. I try to claw it out, but it is deep and my fingers no longer move as I wish. My body has stopped shivering, my thoughts have become cloudy. Darkness swallows my vision. Time slips away as I drift into the Realm of Dreams.
***
Realm of Dreams
***
Cold fills me. The waters of the dreamworld are peaceful though as they embrace me. The dead that I carry do not call for me as they normally would. At least there is peace in my end. In the skies above countless stars are twinkling. A reprieve from the clouds that usually hang. The red glow of Netherium creeps on the horizon. I feel the Shulka’s blood stinging through my veins. Trying to get to my heart. Trying to make me like it is. What of Arrum?
Above me strands of light form until they shape a memory. It is from when I was a boy, the Sage draws upon his pipe, blowing concentric rings as he ponders a question that Arrum had. A question of runes and how they are shaped by the soul.
“One’s runes are a reflection of the soul, the bonds it has upon it.” The Sage says.
The younger Arrum’s face scrunches as he muses the words before he asks “Does that mean that runeless are soulless?”
The Sage looks towards my younger self in the memory “One does not need runes to possess a soul. There are many from other worlds who are runeless. Yet even still, all beings possess souls.”
My younger self looks to the floor, the face bears frustration. It was a few years after this that the Sage died. It is strange to see him again. If I had known that he would soon be gone, I would have sought more wisdom from him. Regret fills me.
“Kalon is the only Kuwathi here without…” Arrum begins but the Sage holds up a finger.
“Remember, that’s a secret Arrum. You wouldn’t want them to take your friend away, would you?” The Sage says, then letting out a sigh at Arrum’s frown he continues “People fear what they do not understand.”
My younger self’s hand clenches, I remember the feeling of being the only one without runes. How much easier things would be with them. How much more difficult it was to learn to even use Maka, let alone hold it. While others were born with the gift, I struggled to even feel the breath of life it gives.
“If they want to take him, they will come through me first.” The younger Arrum replies.
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The memory fades as the feeling of shame for failing Arrum rises. The waters tremor as I look around the endless seas. If I am to die, then so is Arrum. His death is my fault. He was only there to save me. I pull my hands to my face, pulling at my hair. Frustration rises. Shame soars. My only true friend dead because of me. The cold seeps deeper into me. The crimson glow of the Netherium rises higher.
The waters tremor more. Fight the despair, burn all the Maka in my body, burn this soul the Sage spoke of. Burn everything. Clouds begin to form above me, and lightning arcs before the thunder booms. Echoing through my dream world. It feels the fury that flows from me. Ripples become waves as my determination rises.
This is not how we die.
The dream world tremors more as I try to push from it, pulling back towards the realm of reality. Using everything the Sage taught me of Maka to try and defy the realm of dreams. There is something stopping me from calling the Maka though, the shard of Netherium in my body’s shoulder. As the frustration rises to greater heights and the determination echoes deep within, I feel something strange coming from the Netherium. Like it is resonating with the waters of my dream world. The more I press the feeling, the more the waters begin to change their shade to a deeper red glow. Netheric Maka hums in the air, nipping at my senses…
Like cold fire in my veins, I pull the Netheric Maka in deep. The Shulka use it… perhaps I can too, if only for a few moments, just long enough to help Arrum. The dream world shakes violently with the Netherium’s glow. Pain courses through me as I try to pull more from it. Give me your strength… give me your power. My veins darken as the rot spreads from it.
Something strange happens just as I begin to feel its rhythm. There is blue light forming on the horizon. Flooding the world with its glow. I hear Arrum’s voice echoing now with it. I cannot make out his words. The darkness rolls back into my shoulder. The crimson glow fades and the blue light washes over me. Warmth against the cold embrace of death fills me.
***
Realm of Reality
***
“You are not permitted to die, Kada,” Arrum says, his breath is heavy and labored.
My eyes open slowly and I see the glow of his runes through the cracks in his garb. His hands are exposed and glint with blue runes mixing with red. He is using everything he has, channeling warmth into my body.
“Do not…” I begin.
“Be quiet.” Arrum says, his eyes glowing through the mask “If you wish to die, you must ask if I agree.”
Still too weak to fight him, I relent. My head turns over to the hole in the ship and I see dawn has come. Hope fills me. There is a chance we may yet live.
“How you are alive, is a mystery to me,” Arrum says as he falls to the floor next to me. Pulling his gloves over his shaking hands. His eyes glow through his mask, I see there is some crimson in them. He has pushed too hard. If we do not get him help soon, he will begin the change.
My body tries to stand, but I am still too weak. My hand traces to my shoulder. I feel the Netherium is still in there. Somehow the wound has begun to close around it. Why does it not pain me as it should? Why do I not feel weaker from it? Is this because I am runeless? What was that feeling in my dream world? Is it possible to use Netheric Maka? Before he died, the Sage promised to tell me why I did not turn in my mother’s womb. Why I still have not turned, even though other runeless cannot survive here. Why am I the exception? What is different about me? Doubts rise as I cannot parse the answers. My mind pulls into focus as I turn and see the corpse of the Shulka near us. Its eyes haunt me even without their glow.
“How did you kill it?” Arrum asks me weakly as he catches his breath.
“I don’t know,” I say, looking at its flesh, frozen stiff now “It just died.”
He turns to look at me after a time. Letting out a long sigh with a light chuckle.
“It is dead, a blessing from Hempki no doubt,” Arrum says finally.
“Perhaps,” I say, though my faith is not like his.
There must be an explanation for why the beast died. Why was it clawing at itself? Why was its flesh burning? There are so many questions that flood my mind. Taking a deep breath, I push them away. We need to focus on getting back. We can wonder if we survive.
“We need to move,” I say, looking back out at the light of dawn growing.
“So soon?” Arrum asks, struggling to his knees.
“The journey will be long.” I sigh, struggling onto my knees as well. My abdomen hurts, I am not sure it will hold closed.
“Kada, I don’t know that we can make the journey,” Arrum says.
“We must try,” I say. My eyes widen as I stand to my feet, pain fills me, but I know that there is a greater risk if we wait longer. Arrum needs Maka to cure the sickness spreading in his body, in my condition I cannot help him. Not with the Netherium in my shoulder. If I tell him, he may throw his life away trying to remove it. Better that I keep it to myself for now. I cannot risk him getting sicker.
“How are we to get down?” Arrum asks, standing up with the help of the metal wall “We are high above the ground and without chutes. Neither of us can climb as we are.”
“Who said we were going to climb,” I say, limping towards the tangle of cords that we tied the night before.
“Then…” He begins, but seeing me moving the bags of scraps we collected the day before through the hole he pauses “You are either very clever or mad.”
“Can one not be both.” I chuckle, my belly hurts as I do.
***
Getting back out of the hole was much harder this time, we stand on the edge of the curled metal of the ship's outer hull. It is nearly midday now. There is little time to move if we hope to make it in our condition before nightfall. Looking down far below at the ground. Neither of us has the strength to climb the cord downwards as we normally might. So, we tied the bags of scraps to one end and looped the other around our waists.
“You sure it’s long enough?” He asks me, eying the ground.
Not wasting time, I push the bags off the edge.
“Let’s find out.”
We jump off the other side of the curled metal and begin falling quickly. It is not long until we feel the twang and our descent slows as the bags on the other end of the cord move upwards acting as a counterbalance.
“Sekat…” Arrum curses looking at the bags flying past us.
We are barely ten paces above the ground when our descent suddenly stops. He looks at me, even though I can’t see his face well through his mask, I know his eyebrow is raised. I shrug and cut the cord, we land with a thud on the ground, but the fresh snow's embrace is more forgiving than solid ground.
“Move back,” I say, pulling Arrum as the bags above smash into the ground moments later.
“Nekam is right, you have a demon’s luck.” He says slapping my shoulder.
The slap nearly sends me to my knees, my shoulder dislocating the day before still pains me. We are not safe yet, we must be vigilant. I look out in the distance and my eyes hollow towards the task of making it back. Arrum is barely steady on his feet. He tries not to show it, but I can feel it in his stance. He must be sicker than I can see. Looking back to the horizon, I let out a sigh.
“If we keep the pace, we should reach it before nightfall,” I say, turning to look back at Arrum.
My eyes blink twice, spinning in a circle, where is he? My heart sinks as I see him slouched on the ground behind me.
“Arrum,” I say, bending down to him. My stomach churns as I pull back the hood of his coat and move the thermosuit from his neck. Dark lines ebb from his skin. How much did he give me? How far along is he?
My head shifts quickly as I hear the ice cracking in the distance, two figures in heavy garb like ours. My hand moves towards my blade, can I even fight as I am now? My teeth grit as I prepare myself, standing over Arrum now drawing my blade.