The Guardians of the Forest: Book Two by Kelly Napoli
CHAPTER 57
STORM
“No!”
Kiethara fell on her hands and knees as Aaron’s embrace disappeared. She let out a cry as her crazed eyes wildly scanned the empty air around her.
“No!”
The clearing was dark. Above her, a mass of deep purple and gray clouds had settled over the sun. Could not one light go without being extinguished? She felt herself go mad as she stumbled to her feet. Everything was empty; not a single presence could be felt but her own. She found herself deep in her connection, searching for anyone. There was no one. She could not even hear the animals.
“NO!”
She was sobbing freely now. She pulled at her waist long hair and howled. This could not be! It was a dream, a nightmare! It had to be! There was no other explanation. It simply could not be!
She could not comprehend what was happening. She could not understand the pain that was ripping through her. Why was she hurting? There was no reason…nothing was wrong, because he could not be gone.
All she had to do was find him. Yes, she thought, that made sense.
She turned to the lake. Once again, the surface was as still and as smooth as glass. Before she dived in, she caught sight of her reflection. Her eyes were bugging, set wide with flowing tears, while her hair flew chaotically around her pale, flushed skin. For a moment, she did not recognize herself.
The water was frigid. That didn’t stop her from propelling herself down as fast as she could to reach the bottom, her limbs working ferociously. As there were no rays of sunlight to filter through the water, the only light came from her crystals. Their luminosity cast the graveyard with eerie shadows, causing Kiethara to shiver as her feet hit the sand.
There was nothing here. The tombs sat dumbly in mindless rows, while the big boulder engraved with inscriptions sat in the gloom. And just like the clearing above her, it was empty.
Mind-spinning, heart-crushingly empty.
Kiethara shook her head, her lips parted in wordless denial.
She kicked off the sand and blasted through the murky water and out of the lake. Some small part of her noticed that she had much more magic then she was used to. That small realization disappeared as soon as she made her way into the sky. There she stopped, hovering over her entire world. Green stretched from horizon to horizon, met only by unyielding gray clouds.
“Aaron!” she called, cupping her hands around her mouth.
Nothing. The winds played with her hair and pulled at the white fabric of her dress.
“AARON!” she screamed. A flock of birds took off from the trees below with cries of their own.
Again, he did not appear.
“No,” she whispered.
There was nothing left to do, no where left to look. It was over.
The sky above her ripped open at the exact same time her heart did.
There was a deep rumble, and then the rain began to fall. It did not just fall, but it poured, rolling out of the clouds in massive sheets, mixed with heavy pieces of hail that fell to the earth below. It all came down so hard that it drove Kiethara down to the surface.
She hit the ground hard, splattering mud in every direction. She did not—could not—lift herself out of the filth. It was not the physical pain of the fall that crippled her, but a pain much worse.
As massive as the raging storm around her, it tore through her without mercy. With each tremor that rocked her, each tear that drenched her like rain, she was blown away by the sheer force of it. Could it be possible to hurt like this with no physical abrasions? Could she survive to lose so much?
Kiethara felt it inside her: the deep, raw ache in her chest. It stabbed at her lungs, pounded on her heart, and constricted her throat. She wanted to claw open her rib cage and extract the poison that was incapacitating her.
It wasn’t until her shield appeared around her did she realize why she was trembling so violently. Her tears, her sobs…those were for the loss of a father, a friend, and a guide. But on top of that mountain of grief, fear began to bubble inside her.
Life without Aaron…Kiethara closed her eyes at the thought. She shuddered as she realized that she would never hear his voice again or have his advice to soothe her worries. That itself punched a hole in her chest; he would never be there for her again.
But the forest without Aaron…she cringed. Kiethara had never felt this alone before. Not like this—where she could feel the empty, silent forest closing in around her. There was nothing standing between her and Gandador, nothing to help her if things turned bad. She was on her own, more so than she had ever been before.
There was no one to hear her scream if Gandador managed to lay his hands on her.
Kiethara retched in the grass. For the first time, Kiethara was convinced she would fail.
Kiethara curled up on her side, letting hysterical sobs rip through her chest. Unlike usual, the golden protection encasing her held no comfort. Its strong glow only reminded her of another strong glow, one that was forever lost. Another source of protection that would never help her again.
Maybe that was all her future was now—a certainty of failure. The great guardian Kiethara would be remembered as would be one who let the forest fall, the one who would bring certain doom on the world. That would be her legend.
Kiethara, through the haze of her relentless tears, was mildly surprised to find that that reality did nothing to her. It did not make her any more depressed; it did not stir anymore anger. She noted it with numb acceptance. Would it be that bad? It would be the end of magic, definitely, but not the end of the world. Redawn did not depend on magic. They would survive. Humanity would survive. Everyone else would only have to adjust. Once it happened, people like Gandador would not exist. When the forest goes, they both go: light magic and dark magic. Without light magic, they would use their daily comforts and techniques. Without dark magic, they would lose their daily threats and fears that have plagued them for generations.
For Redawn, their lives would only improve. For the rest of the world, they could endure. For people like her father, well, they deserved to die.
Her shield disappeared. She remained curled up in a ball, the rain pelting her already drenched body and stinging her exposed skin.
She wasn’t afraid anymore. Either way, it did not matter. She died? She had already figured out that the world just might be better off. She would be reunited with her mother, Aaron…The worst thing left for her was being stuck in this forest alone for any longer.
Another wave of misery washed over her.
Accepting the concept of death was not simple. It was not something someone could do with equanimity. Even the bravest of warriors became woebegone when faced with that certainty. To crush all feelings of self-preservation, to ignore such a powerful instinct…it went against nature. And nature was the only thing she knew.
She could only continue to weep, for currently, that was the only thing she knew.
She lamented her loss, her pain, and her onerous position. Kiethara did not like pity, especially when it was her own pity directed at herself, but she could not help it. Lying here, pathetic and sniveling, made her more disgusted with herself than she had ever been before. She was a guardian. The power she held should not be wallowing in the mud.
But even so, she could not find the will to do anything about it.
Some small part of her mind—the only part that was sane—noted that time was passing. Whether the past excruciating moment had been a minute or an hour, though, she could not tell.
It was not until she heard a cry from behind her did she realize how much time had actually passed.
“Kiethara!” it called through the downpour. It sounded so far away. She barely heard it over the sob that came out of her mouth.
It called again, clearer now. This time, she numbly tuned it out. She could not think through the immense haze that clouded her reason.
“Kiethara!” it gasped, quite close now.
She could not comprehend who it
was, or what she should do. What could she do? She had decided a long time ago that she was not ever going to move again.
Suddenly, warm, tender hands grabbed her upper arm. She flinched violently, keeping her eyes closed. Another sob escaped. Had Gandador come so soon?
“Kiethara,” Navadar’s voice whispered.
She opened her eyes in disbelief. Navadar’s face swam in her vision, blurred between the tears and the rain.
“What happened?” he yelled over the downpour, his features twisted into an expression of alarm and pain. “Are you hurt?”
Navadar.
It was as if she had resurfaced. It was an accurate description, for she had been drowning in despair. She had lost her reason, her sanity, and pure logic as her thoughts had sunk into the blackest abyss.
Yet here he was! A reason why she should not die, why she should not let the forest fall .If he had not found her…she would have been lost forever.
With that thought in mind, she found the will to move. She reached up and wrapped her hands around his neck, pulling herself into his chest and holding on to him with everything she had. She was afraid that if she let go, he might slip away and leave her stranded in this insanity. She continued to weep into his shoulder blade.
“Oh, honey…” he said in a broken whisper. His hand reached to her waist and unbuckled her sword, removing her potions as well. He sat back and cradled her to his chest like a toddler, rubbing her back rhythmically as he wiped her hair from her face.
STORM
“No!”
Kiethara fell on her hands and knees as Aaron’s embrace disappeared. She let out a cry as her crazed eyes wildly scanned the empty air around her.
“No!”
The clearing was dark. Above her, a mass of deep purple and gray clouds had settled over the sun. Could not one light go without being extinguished? She felt herself go mad as she stumbled to her feet. Everything was empty; not a single presence could be felt but her own. She found herself deep in her connection, searching for anyone. There was no one. She could not even hear the animals.
“NO!”
She was sobbing freely now. She pulled at her waist long hair and howled. This could not be! It was a dream, a nightmare! It had to be! There was no other explanation. It simply could not be!
She could not comprehend what was happening. She could not understand the pain that was ripping through her. Why was she hurting? There was no reason…nothing was wrong, because he could not be gone.
All she had to do was find him. Yes, she thought, that made sense.
She turned to the lake. Once again, the surface was as still and as smooth as glass. Before she dived in, she caught sight of her reflection. Her eyes were bugging, set wide with flowing tears, while her hair flew chaotically around her pale, flushed skin. For a moment, she did not recognize herself.
The water was frigid. That didn’t stop her from propelling herself down as fast as she could to reach the bottom, her limbs working ferociously. As there were no rays of sunlight to filter through the water, the only light came from her crystals. Their luminosity cast the graveyard with eerie shadows, causing Kiethara to shiver as her feet hit the sand.
There was nothing here. The tombs sat dumbly in mindless rows, while the big boulder engraved with inscriptions sat in the gloom. And just like the clearing above her, it was empty.
Mind-spinning, heart-crushingly empty.
Kiethara shook her head, her lips parted in wordless denial.
She kicked off the sand and blasted through the murky water and out of the lake. Some small part of her noticed that she had much more magic then she was used to. That small realization disappeared as soon as she made her way into the sky. There she stopped, hovering over her entire world. Green stretched from horizon to horizon, met only by unyielding gray clouds.
“Aaron!” she called, cupping her hands around her mouth.
Nothing. The winds played with her hair and pulled at the white fabric of her dress.
“AARON!” she screamed. A flock of birds took off from the trees below with cries of their own.
Again, he did not appear.
“No,” she whispered.
There was nothing left to do, no where left to look. It was over.
The sky above her ripped open at the exact same time her heart did.
There was a deep rumble, and then the rain began to fall. It did not just fall, but it poured, rolling out of the clouds in massive sheets, mixed with heavy pieces of hail that fell to the earth below. It all came down so hard that it drove Kiethara down to the surface.
She hit the ground hard, splattering mud in every direction. She did not—could not—lift herself out of the filth. It was not the physical pain of the fall that crippled her, but a pain much worse.
As massive as the raging storm around her, it tore through her without mercy. With each tremor that rocked her, each tear that drenched her like rain, she was blown away by the sheer force of it. Could it be possible to hurt like this with no physical abrasions? Could she survive to lose so much?
Kiethara felt it inside her: the deep, raw ache in her chest. It stabbed at her lungs, pounded on her heart, and constricted her throat. She wanted to claw open her rib cage and extract the poison that was incapacitating her.
It wasn’t until her shield appeared around her did she realize why she was trembling so violently. Her tears, her sobs…those were for the loss of a father, a friend, and a guide. But on top of that mountain of grief, fear began to bubble inside her.
Life without Aaron…Kiethara closed her eyes at the thought. She shuddered as she realized that she would never hear his voice again or have his advice to soothe her worries. That itself punched a hole in her chest; he would never be there for her again.
But the forest without Aaron…she cringed. Kiethara had never felt this alone before. Not like this—where she could feel the empty, silent forest closing in around her. There was nothing standing between her and Gandador, nothing to help her if things turned bad. She was on her own, more so than she had ever been before.
There was no one to hear her scream if Gandador managed to lay his hands on her.
Kiethara retched in the grass. For the first time, Kiethara was convinced she would fail.
Kiethara curled up on her side, letting hysterical sobs rip through her chest. Unlike usual, the golden protection encasing her held no comfort. Its strong glow only reminded her of another strong glow, one that was forever lost. Another source of protection that would never help her again.
Maybe that was all her future was now—a certainty of failure. The great guardian Kiethara would be remembered as would be one who let the forest fall, the one who would bring certain doom on the world. That would be her legend.
Kiethara, through the haze of her relentless tears, was mildly surprised to find that that reality did nothing to her. It did not make her any more depressed; it did not stir anymore anger. She noted it with numb acceptance. Would it be that bad? It would be the end of magic, definitely, but not the end of the world. Redawn did not depend on magic. They would survive. Humanity would survive. Everyone else would only have to adjust. Once it happened, people like Gandador would not exist. When the forest goes, they both go: light magic and dark magic. Without light magic, they would use their daily comforts and techniques. Without dark magic, they would lose their daily threats and fears that have plagued them for generations.
For Redawn, their lives would only improve. For the rest of the world, they could endure. For people like her father, well, they deserved to die.
Her shield disappeared. She remained curled up in a ball, the rain pelting her already drenched body and stinging her exposed skin.
She wasn’t afraid anymore. Either way, it did not matter. She died? She had already figured out that the world just might be better off. She would be reunited with her mother, Aaron…The worst thing left for her was being stuck in this forest alone for any longer.
Another wave of misery washed over her.
Accepting the concept of death was not simple. It was not something someone could do with equanimity. Even the bravest of warriors became woebegone when faced with that certainty. To crush all feelings of self-preservation, to ignore such a powerful instinct…it went against nature. And nature was the only thing she knew.
She could only continue to weep, for currently, that was the only thing she knew.
She lamented her loss, her pain, and her onerous position. Kiethara did not like pity, especially when it was her own pity directed at herself, but she could not help it. Lying here, pathetic and sniveling, made her more disgusted with herself than she had ever been before. She was a guardian. The power she held should not be wallowing in the mud.
But even so, she could not find the will to do anything about it.
Some small part of her mind—the only part that was sane—noted that time was passing. Whether the past excruciating moment had been a minute or an hour, though, she could not tell.
It was not until she heard a cry from behind her did she realize how much time had actually passed.
“Kiethara!” it called through the downpour. It sounded so far away. She barely heard it over the sob that came out of her mouth.
It called again, clearer now. This time, she numbly tuned it out. She could not think through the immense haze that clouded her reason.
“Kiethara!” it gasped, quite close now.
She could not comprehend who it
Suddenly, warm, tender hands grabbed her upper arm. She flinched violently, keeping her eyes closed. Another sob escaped. Had Gandador come so soon?
“Kiethara,” Navadar’s voice whispered.
She opened her eyes in disbelief. Navadar’s face swam in her vision, blurred between the tears and the rain.
“What happened?” he yelled over the downpour, his features twisted into an expression of alarm and pain. “Are you hurt?”
Navadar.
It was as if she had resurfaced. It was an accurate description, for she had been drowning in despair. She had lost her reason, her sanity, and pure logic as her thoughts had sunk into the blackest abyss.
Yet here he was! A reason why she should not die, why she should not let the forest fall .If he had not found her…she would have been lost forever.
With that thought in mind, she found the will to move. She reached up and wrapped her hands around his neck, pulling herself into his chest and holding on to him with everything she had. She was afraid that if she let go, he might slip away and leave her stranded in this insanity. She continued to weep into his shoulder blade.
“Oh, honey…” he said in a broken whisper. His hand reached to her waist and unbuckled her sword, removing her potions as well. He sat back and cradled her to his chest like a toddler, rubbing her back rhythmically as he wiped her hair from her face.