Media: Kashimi

Music: Torn by Nathan Lanier

*****

CHAPTER FIVE

No. Papa!

Pent up tears gushed out like a river bursting through its banks, flooding forward and obliterating everything in its path. The Kesatria knelt beside Cadence and placed a hand on her shoulder. She pressed her face against his chest, scrunching up his robes in her fists.

Cadence howled. Every emotion spurted out; each emotion like a dagger being shot through her chest.

The Kesatria held her as she cried, one gloved hand around her waist, and the other cradling the back of her head.

"You're safe now." His voice was warm, deep, reassuring. He did not move, allowing Cadence to cry until her tears ran dry.

Cadence raised her head and found the Kesatria staring at her.

"Are you hurt?"

She didn't realize she was hugging her waist. The hand she pulled away was stained in blood. With the initial shock gone, the pain started to settle in.

"A friend of mine is on his way." The Kesatria helped Cadence to her feet. "He is a Mujarab, he knows what to do."

Seeing Cadence was too shaky to even stand, the Kesatria swept her off her feet and carried her over to the side of the room that wasn't littered with shards of glass and debris.

It had been ages since Cadence was carried like a child. She stopped being a child after her father's accident.

Gently, the Kesatria set her down on the floor.

"My brother," she croaked. "He's hurt."

The Kesatria looked where Cadence pointed. He walked over to Cole's side and pressed two fingers against his neck, searching for a pulse.

"He's alive," he said. The Kesatria picked up the books and stacked them aside, clearing the space. "But an attack like that coming from a Rakasha? He should be dead."

His Varya blood must have kept him alive. A Warrior healed faster even compared to their Varya counterparts.

Cadence felt the blood drain from her face. A Mujarab could tell Cole was Varya by just touching him. They would take him away and force him into the army. She couldn't allow that, she just lost her father, and now she was going to lose her brother.

"You caused quite a disturbance at the marketplace," he said. "Luckily for you, if you hadn't torn through the streets like a whirlwind, I wouldn't have found you. If I were a few seconds later, you would have been dead."

You came, but not soon enough. Papa is dead.

"Do you know what happened at the Orelik mansion? You work there, I saw you."

Should I lie? She didn't know what to say or even think. If she told the truth, both she and her brother would be publicly executed.

"I-I don't really remember. I was getting Mistress Khazaria's dress to the drying room when there was an explosion. I just started running, there was a lot of green smoke. And the people..."

She didn't have to force herself to sound pitiful. The memories of the screaming servants and guards caught in the smoke were enough to make her cringe into a small, pathetic ball.

Glass crunched. Another man appeared. He also wore a mask, but unlike the Kesatria's which was white painted gold, his was a silver raven mask with a long beak. His black skin contrasted the white and gold sweeping robes that covered his body.

He raised a bony hand in salute.

"Ales," the Mujarab said in a soft, musical voice. "Maybe you dragging me along this ridiculous mission of yours turned out to be quite a good idea. I got your message, just left the Orelik mansion, well, what's left of it anyways. You should see it for yourself. It was like someone had blown up the building from inside out. There was also this pungent smell, rotten eggs, I presume. Could it possibly be-"

"Polong," Ales said. "You know how crazy old Orelik hoards peculiar knickknacks right? He was warned that one day one of those creatures will escape, but he never listened."

"But for a Polong to contain so much power..." The Mujarab trailed off.

"It must be an immensely old and vengeful one." The Kesatria, Ales, gestured at Cadence. "The girl and her brother need help. Heal them."

Cadence wanted to shout at the Mujarab to leave her brother alone. If he touched Cole, his secret, their secret would be exposed. But if the Mujarab didn't Heal him, he would die.

Conflicted and fearful, she watched as the Mujarab knelt beside her brother and closed his slender fingers around his wrist.

It was the longest two seconds of Cadence's life. The Mujarab stiffened, then looked at the Kesatria.

"Ales."

"What?"

Cadence braced herself for the revelation.

"The boy is Varya."

"This isn't the time for jokes, Kashimi."

"I see no reason to lie," Kashimi said. "I can feel his Energy flowing from his Core. It is as bright as the lanterns of Tadih."

"Then he comes with us. A bastard Varya's only place is in the army."

"No!" Cadence found the energy to shout. "You're not taking him anywhere. You don't understand, I just lost my father, and now you're going to take my brother away?"

"Young one," Kashimi said in the same, soothing voice that made Cadence want to hit him. "Rules are rules. All Varya must be initiated, bastard or no, at the age of eighteen. Your brother here is clearly over the age. There is a penalty for not drafting upon reaching eighteen. We-"

Ales lifted a hand, cutting Kashimi off. "Kashimi is right. The Law is the Law. How old is your brother?"

"Seventeen," she lied. "Not yet draft age."

The Kesatria and the Mujarab shared a look.

Ales was fidgeting with a small bulge on his ring finger. "Your father is dead and the two of you have nowhere to go. Come next winter, he'll have to draft anyway. We're doing your brother a favor."

Cadence grabbed Ales' hand. "You can't do this! I-I don't have any other family left. Leave my brother with me, I swear we will disappear, you will never hear of us again. No one needs to know that Cole is Varya."

The Kesatria looked at her for a second, then swiped Cadence's hand away.

"Heal the boy. He comes with us."

The Mujarab held his hands over Cole's head. A soft blue light emanated from his palms, covering his forehead with glowing energy.

Cadence's world spun. They must not separate us.

"Take me with him," she hissed. Her hand reached out and grabbed a fistful of Ales' cloak. "I volunteer to join the army. I know you've got foot soldiers, the Murka army. If I draft, you'll have to take me with you to the Hall of Games right?"

Ales stared at her as if she had gone crazy. "You don't have to enlist."

"You are not giving me an option here." Cadence pulled up her other hand and held the fabric tight. If Ales wanted to kick her away, she would latch on even harder. "You either kill me or you take me with you. I'm not going anywhere without my brother."

Ales' eyes glittered. "So be it."

After Kashimi had Healed Cole, he Healed Cadence. Although the wound by her waist had closed and the physical pain had subsided, Cadence felt as if someone had ripped out her soul from the body, like how one would pull out a weed from the ground, roots and all.

She cradled Cole's head in her arms. What should she tell him when he woke? That their father was dead, and the both of them were on their way to the Hall of Games? It would shatter him into a million irreparable pieces.

The two men stared at her as she continued to run her fingers through her brother's hair. He had their father's hair, all dark and curls.

The Mujarab fidgeted, as if itching to leave, while Ales averted his glance.

"I want to bury my father."

"That is not a problem," Ales said softly. "We'll help you dig a grave."

"We don't have time for this," the Mujarab said. "We still have to report to the High Priestess about the damage at Mansion Orelik. Do you have any idea how many people were killed? I'm pretty sure the Orelik family is no more. There are more wounded I need to attend to-"

"The girl just lost her father," Ales snapped. "She deserves the time to mourn."

Kashimi shrugged. "Emotions are always hard to comprehend."

"Not everyone is a self-righteous, trained Mujarab. Help me carry the body, Kashimi. I'll dig the grave."

Kashimi nodded. He gave Cadence a questioning look—May I? Cadence looked away when she heard Kashimi step into the puddle of blood while retrieving her father's headless corpse.

"Cole." She nudged her brother's shoulder. "Cole, wake up, please."

Her voice broke. Cole still showed no signs of waking.

"I don't want to do this alone." She pressed her forehead against her brother's. "Please, wake up."

Whatever Healing Kashimi had performed on him, it must have taken a toll on her brother's body. Cole was sleeping like the dead.

"Girl." Ales' voice floated from outside. "Come out!"

She gave her brother's hand one last squeeze before she walked into the bleak cold.

Ales and Kashimi were standing by the Spring tree she had planted many years ago. When she was five, a trader gave a seedling to her father. The trader had looked at the hard, frozen ground and shook his head, telling him it require a miracle for a spring plant to survive the cold Region of Elements weather.

Cadence had refused to believe the trader's words. She dug out chunks after chunks of soil in their backyard until her hands were bleeding before she planted the seedling. A miracle did happen, for the tree now stood strong and solid in front of her. Although the trader had promised the tree would never flower, Cadence was certain it would one day bloom, and they would be the prettiest flowers she had ever seen.

Now, they were going to bury her father under the tree. Tears prickled her eyes again.

"You might want to stand back for this," Ales warned. Cadence blinked, while Kashimi immediately took several steps back. Blood from her father's body had drenched the front of his robes, but he didn't seem bothered.

Ales thrust his hands into the air, moving them in quick, fluid motions. The air around him started to swirl, faster and faster, gathering the snow and the rocks on the ground, rolling them into a dense whirlwind. It roared and howled, much like the Rakasha had, tearing fiercely at Cadence's hair and clothes, breaking twigs and banishing them into the sky.

Cadence started in fascination as Ales' movements got wilder. He threw up the whirlwind of air and turned his palms down. The whirlwind drilled into the ground with a loud boom. Rocks rattled, the ground caved in. Ales dragged the air across the ground, causing a deep, horizontal hole to appear.

When the grave was dug, he flexed his fingers, dispersing the wind.

Ales motioned Kashimi to bring her father's body forward. "Anything you would like to say to your father?"

Cadence walked forward. She didn't want to see her father's headless corpse, but a part of her forced her eyes open to look at the bleeding stump that was turning blue from the cold.

Look, Cadence. Look at what you have done. You trusted a Polong and now your father is dead.

Ah, the Polong's voice suddenly emerged from the back of her head. Cadence jolted, as though struck by lightning. But I have granted your wish. Tell me, sweet girl, isn't this what you've always wanted? I would not be able to tell your deepest desire unless it has been on your mind for quite a while. I promised to end your father's pain, and I am true to my word. I am not the one who killed your father, Cadence. You did. I merely extended a helping hand. You are now free, free from having to take care of a cripple. You can move to the cities, find a job, get married, settle down, build your own cabin. I even got rid of the Oreliks. You will never have to deal with them ever again.

"Girl," Ales said. "Speak."

Focus. She took in a deep breath, pushing the Polong's voice into the dark recesses of her mind.

Seeing Cadence was still silent, Ales held a hand over the grave. "Merry meet we met, unsullied Soul upon the earth, and merry shall we part. There will come a time where the air will turn your breath into ice, and your body into stone, but cry not, you are but returning into the embrace of the earth. As your body decays and your name is mourned, you shall rise to the skies and shine with the old ones. Merry meet, and merry shall we part."

Cadence stared at the body on the pyre, remembering her father's face—his eyes which crinkled whenever he smiled, his slightly overlarge nose, and his dark hair that curled around the nape of his neck.

I'm so sorry, Papa.

She wished her father would sit up and tell her that everything was just a dream. She wanted to see his smile again, to taste the boar pie he used to bake when he could still use his legs. Although her father was a strict man, she knew he still loved her.

But wishes would always remain as wishes. It was too late for her to tell him how much she loved him.

Hundreds of prayers ran through Cadence's mind. She had memorized them all, for the Dewas favored those who knew their words by heart. However, right now, none of them felt right.

"In Spirit and truth," she finally whispered. "We stand as one."

"I fear none, and I shall fight all who stands in my way," Kashimi murmured after her, completing the blessing.

A gentle gust of wind took the body from Kashimi's arms. Ales lowered the body into the hole. Cadence watched as the earth swallowed up the man who gave her life and fell back with a sigh.

"The carriage is downhill," Kashimi said. "Pack up your things."

"Go." Ales gave her an encouraging nod. "I'll move your brother into the carriage. Kashimi will wait for you."

Cadence couldn't bear it anymore. She ran into the house. Touching the ruined walls, she wondered why she had never noticed the cobwebs, not even when she went in and out of the house dozens of times a day. Leaving a place where she had lived for the past eighteen years brought a new light to her eyes—she will never be home again.

Her father's headless body seared her mind. Cadence squeezed her eyes shut. If she tried to think of Papa, she would see his head rip from his body, blood painting the air red before it fell to the ground, breaking into patterns spelling death.

She hadn't the faintest inkling on what to pack. Entering her room, she looked around at the walls covered with sketches of dolls. Apart from her sewing basket and some papers, there wasn't anything else left worth taking. She had sold everything valuable she had ever owned to pay for her father's medicine, except for a pair of glass earrings which she had buried in the backyard when she was a child, out of fear someone might steal them. Up till now, she couldn't find them. Perhaps Dewa Wejda took them as tribute, she would never know.

Cadence picked up an unfinished doll that sprawled on her bed. Doll-making made her forget her pain sometimes. It was as if she was creating life, just like how Dewa Kastimir had molded humans from earth and breathed into them.

The doll stared at her out of its single, beady eye, seeming to say 'why don't you take me with you?'.

She threw the doll, some old shirts, breeches, and her sewing basket into a bundle. After tightening the knot, Cadence then proceeded to pack up some of her brother's clothes.

Kashimi appeared at the doorway.

"It's time."

Cadence looked around the familiar surroundings for one last time. She tried to map it all into her mind—every nook and cranny, the dents and the crevices, even the chip in the wall where Cole had teased her about spiders the size of chicken eggs crawling out at night, and her father's bed where he had spent the last five years in. The sheets were all wrinkled and scrunched up against one side of the bed, and old navy curtains flapped by the shattered windows, each ribbon seeming to bid them goodbye. She looked away so it wouldn't pain her further.

A black carriage stood outside drawn by two sturdy horses. Both sides of the carriage bore the sigil of the Hall of Games, painted in expert flourishes of gold. Six circles interlocked one another, each representing a Hall in Moskava.

"After you," Kashimi said.

Ales stepped off the front coach seat and offered to help Cadence with her bundle, but she shook her head. She went into the carriage first.

"Get inside, Ales." Kashimi shoved Ales from the driver's seat. "I'll drive."

Ales stopped in his tracks. "Why?"

"You're good with children," Kashimi answered simply. "I'm not."

Without waiting for Ales' consent, he pushed him into the seat next to Cadence and closed the door. There was the crack of a whip, and the carriage jerked into motion.

It rolled down the rocky lanes of the hill and toward the marketplace. Cadence stared at the open windows. Through the fogged panes, her home was a silhouette against the dying light. She tried to memorize the coniferous trees, the crooked slopes of the hills and the gentle fall of the snow. As the carriage turned into another bend, her home winked and disappeared altogether.