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Kalon
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Chapter Thirty-Three: Bata U’Ton
Galactic Quadrant: Darna Quadrant
Ruling Government: Talum Merchant Federation
Solar System: D-447
Planet: Ora
Location: Planet's surface, near derelict destroyer
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My breath is ragged as the two figures approach. Something in their stride is familiar though, even disoriented from fatigue and blood loss, I know it. My knees sink into the snow as they reach me. Hope fighting against despair.
“Kalon, we have come.” Daki the shorter red-haired brother says “Against the chief’s orders, we are here.”
My head looks up towards the heavens, are the gods real after all?
“We would have stayed yesterday, but Arrum ordered us to take back the quota for the Clan.” Daki says, his voice is filled with regret as he says “We should not have listened. If we had been here…”
Raising up a hand I say “You are here now, that is more than I could have asked for.”
“What happened to Arrum?” Haki the taller one asks. Bending down to look at him.
“Netheric sickness.” I say, putting my blade back in my boot “He saved me.”
Haki nods and pulls off his gloves, placing his hands on Arrum’s skin, giving his Maka to stop the spread and push it back. It will not be enough to cure him, but it will help. His face flinches from the pain but he does not complain as Arrum’s body drinks it in. Daki comes next, also giving what he can. They do not stop until each of their eyes bears a little crimson.
“You two fought a Carver and lived…” Haki whispers, looking at Daki he points to the claw marks on our garb.
“Barely,” I admit.
The weight I felt for the task of getting back starts to feel lighter with them here to help me. Relief flows in me, making my weariness more present.
“The Gods are surely with you,” Haki says.
“Can you walk?” Daki asks, now helping me to my feet.
Nodding to him, I point to the bags of scrap “Help me carry…” My words stop as I stagger over. My head is dizzy still. Daki catches me before I fall.
“Rest, we will take care of it.” He says, his words are soft on my weary ears. I must not fall asleep. There is much to do.
“We will see you both back to the city. Bata U’ton.” Haki says grabbing my shoulder tightly, causing me to recoil in pain. He releases his hand quickly, seeing my discomfort.
Bata U’ton, a sacred vow in the old tongue that means, on my honor. The words are enough to make me fall more into my weariness. Can I trust them with such a task?
“We should make a sled.” Daki says, moving towards the bags of scraps, he opens them, sifting through “Perhaps we can use this.”
Haki nods to him, inspecting the bags “We can lash it with the chutes cords.” Then looking back at me he says “We should make one for him as well.”
“I can walk back on my own,” I say.
Taking a moment to catch my breath, I kneel next to Arrum. My belly aches, I think it will open on the journey back. I should tend to it now, but I feel so weak. Sleep wishes to find me.
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“You need to rest.” Daki, the shorter one says.
“No,” I say adamantly.
Daki comes to me now, kneeling to my eye level.
“You gave much for us to live. Do not shame us now when we can help you.” He says, his voice is sincere and softer than I have heard before.
“I…” but I stop, the words of the Sage play in my mind.
One should not refuse the earnest help of others, lest they become helpless.
As an Ulima, being forsaken means that no one will help you. For years I have only had Arrum to rely upon. Am I being cautious or prideful? Perhaps both. I am weak now, maybe too weak to make the journey without help. I will slow them down by being stubborn. Pride burrows in my chest as I nod to them. Lying on the ground next to Arrum.
“I place our lives in your hands.” I say, then looking at the ten bags of scraps I add “Hide half of the bags, we may need them later.”
Before they can even reply, sleep finds me in its embrace. Ushering me to the realm of dreams.
***
Realm of Dreams
***
My eyes open slowly but they find no respite from the darkness. There is no sea of brimming waters here. Only the absence of light. There is a sound in the air though. Like an ocean of voices, whispering things. There is a feeling of uneasiness as I feel around me, nothing. The voices slowly converge and their words become coherent. They chant in the old tongue.
Vasha Nul Tamak
Their chant chills me. I feel movement stirring around me, but I cannot see anything. Unexplainable fear rises in me as I wish for the dream to end. I have heard tell of the chant before. Those close to the changing speak of it. It calls them in their dreams.
Is it the Netherium embedded in my shoulder causing this? It must be… or the Shulka’s blood still flows in me. Perhaps it is both. I must rid myself of the Netherium when I wake. It was unwise to leave it. I should have risked cutting it out or asked the brothers to do it. They would have questioned why it did not affect me as it should… an answer I do not have. The chant grows.
Vasha Nul Tamak
There are hands that graze my flesh, when I turn, they are gone. Suddenly thousands of eyes fill the darkness as the chant becomes a fervent roar. Hands grasp me tightly, hundreds of them as the eyes move closer. I try to pull away and resist, but they are strong. The fear cascades to greater heights. They pull me deeper into the depths of despair as their chants become so loud that they swallow my thoughts. I feel reason slipping from me. Am I changing? No, I will attack Arrum and the brothers if I do. I try to speak, but the hands cover my mouth. The chant fills my mind.
Vasha Nul Tamak
My body thrashes but I cannot fight against them all. I must fight though. There is too much left to do. My thoughts are on Arrum and the brothers. On Nevari and the others of my tribe. Not all of them were unkind, especially after we proved ourselves in the fights. Even Korra finds her way into my mind now. As the darkness swallows me, something else presses to the surface. Defiant against the pressure. Images of the woman I see in my dreams flash in my mind, her silver eyes igniting with light. Heat against the cold is the first feeling. Then suddenly, radiant silver fire erupts all around me, releasing me from the shadowy figures that tried to hold me. The chant disappears with the figures. Warmth, unlike anything I have known engulfs me. Where does it come from? What is this feeling? Who is the woman? Is this her doing? Or is this just another dream?
Something on the edge of my perception calls my attention. Voices I recognize. Nevari’s, and even Nekam’s. I move toward them, the flames leaving me as I do. The world slowly spins as I feel myself called back to the Realm of Reality.
***
Realm of Reality
***
“Hold him still.” A voice says. I recognize it. It is our healer, Nekam’s mother.
My eyes open and they are greeted with familiar faces. It takes me a moment, but I see that I am in the Clan chief’s private quarters. Looking around, I try to sit up. There are hands that press against me. Owned by Nevari and Nekam. I do not see Arrum, nor the brothers.
“Arrum…” I say, trying to press up.
“He is alive.” Nevari says, pushing me back down “Be still, we are almost done.”
Nekam says nothing as he presses my other shoulder. His eyes are trained on where his mother works. She holds a metal tool, picking in my flesh, removing the Netherium. She holds it to the light nearest us, looking at it. It is strange though, the Netherium is riddled with black streaks now, and the black streaks crumble away as she moves the tool.
“Strange.” The healer says quietly, dropping the shard into a small cup. She moves her wrinkled hand just above my skin, I think she is feeling for more shards.
“The brothers?” I ask Nevari, pressing past the pain.
“They went to the mines.” She says, now looking at her grandmother’s hand moving to find more shards.
To the mines? My body pulls upwards, did Nekam sell them? Guilt and panic slosh inside me. My eyes fight against the weariness that I feel.
“My chief, they are useful, please…”
He looks down at me now, a look I do not recognize on his face.
“Useful you say, yet they did not follow my orders.”
“My chief…” I say, trying to get up, but the room is fading, darkness rolling into my vision, the sounds of the room become dull until there is nothing.