moonbird
05-02-2010, 08:33 PM
Chapter 2: The Great War
Kafil is silent for what seems to me like a very long time. “The Great War?” I repeat softly.
He nods. “Yes. It is a battle that has been raging since the beginning of time. No one knows how or why it started, but most agree that it will never end.”
“But what is it, exactly?” I ask, a hint of impatience edging into my voice.
Kafil doesn’t look at me, just gazes out across the river. “I have already told you,” he answers simply.
I try to keep my voice level. “You haven’t told me anything. Who is fighting this war?”
Kafil raises his eyebrows, as if in surprise. “Why, you are, of course.”
“Me?” Now it’s my turn to be surprised.
“Yes, you.”
“Who am I supposed to fight?”
Kafil sighs. “It is called the Orohb.”
“The Orohb,” I repeat. The name frightens me. “What is it?”
“It is a—” Kafil pauses, then resumes so quickly I’m unsure if I have imagined the slight hesitation. “It is a terrible creature, forged from fire and smoke. A demon, I suppose you could call it.”
“A demon?”
“Yes.”
“Suppose I refuse to fight this Orohb thing. What happens then?”
Kafil shrugs nonchalantly. “Then you die.”
My voice comes out a squeak. “Are you threatening me?”
Kafil shoots me a look that says, “Are you the biggest idiot in the world?” Out loud he says in a matter-of-fact voice, “I’m not going to kill you. The Orohb is.”
“But how can it—”
“The Orohb does not need to fight you directly in order to take your life,” Kafil says, cutting me off. “Like every fire, the Orohb needs fuel to stay lit. That is where you come in, Anuja. You are the fuel.”
My face is blank. “I don’t understand—”
“The Orohb cannot generate its own heat,” Kafil says, his voice verging on sharp. “Therefore it must steal it from you. Between the two of you is an invisible energy field.” He pauses. “No, not an energy field, more like a conveyor belt, going from you to the Orohb and bringing your energy with it.”
One question is buzzing around my head like a crazed bird. “Kafil,” I say, my voice high and quiet, “why me?”
Kafil looks down at me, his face hard and cold. “Because, Anuja,” he says to me, “it is your destiny.”
For a long time, neither of us speak. Finally I break the silence. “The Orohb is the reason I’m so cold.”
Kafil glances over at me. “Yes.”
“And it’s only going to get worse as it steals more and more energy from me.”
“Yes.”
“So I really have no choice in the matter, do I?”
“No, you do not.”
I moan and put my face in my hands. “So where do you fit into all of this?” I murmur. “Why are you here?”
“I already told you, Anuja, I am your guardian.”
“But if it’s my fate to fight the Orohb, why do I need a guardian?”
Kafil shrugs. “I suppose I am not your guardian, precisely. Really I’m closer to being your teacher.”
“You’re going to teach me to fight the Orohb.”
“Yes.”
I ponder this a moment. Then I ask, “Does the Orohb have a guardian too?”
Suddenly Kafil’s face changes. I see a flash of something... anxiety, and... do I spot a glimmer of something else?
Remorse?
“Kafil, are you alright?” I ask him, worried.
And just like that his face is back to normal, stone-hard and without emotion. “Yes, I’m fine.”
I stare at him for a moment, analyzing his inhumanly-passionless face and searching for a trace of emotion. I find none.
“So, when does my training begin?” I ask, changing the subject.
“Right now, if you wish,” Kafil replies. Without waiting for my answer he gets to his feet and begins walking down along the riverbank.
I follow him. His strides are long and fast, and I nearly have to trot to keep up. I cannot judge how far we walk, because everything we pass looks the same: blue and frozen. Finally Kafil stops. “This spot will do.”
He kneels down on one knee and dips his hand into the river. When his hand returns there is a single crystal held between his thumb and index finger. He uncurls my hand and presses the smooth teardrop into my palm.
Then he takes a step back, staring at me expectantly.
I look down at the crystal, then back up at Kafil. “What am I supposed to do with this?” I demand.
“Levitate it,” Kafil replies.
“How?”
“I cannot explain it to you. You know the answer.”
Again I look down at the tiny crystal in my hand. I hold my hand up level with my eyes and say to it in my most authoritative voice, “Levitate!”
The crystal doesn’t move.
I hear a sound. I look up and see Kafil is trying to suppress a laugh.
Annoyed, I look back at the crystal, as if the answer will reveal itself to me.
“You know the answer,” Kafil repeats softly.
I close my eyes and search the corners of my mind, trying to find any kind of response. I find only darkness. “Kafil, I can’t—”
“Look, Anuja,” Kafil says. His voice sounds pleased.
Obediently I open my eyes to find I’ve moved my hands without realizing it.
The hand which Kafil had pressed the crystal into faces upward; the other hand hovers above it, palm facing down.
But this is not what amazes me. As I look closer, I see a tiny blue teardrop in the space between my hands.
It is levitating.
I look back at Kafil, a look of shock on my face. I see he is smiling. “Your first lesson,” he says, “is complete.”
************************************************** ********
Kafil is silent for what seems to me like a very long time. “The Great War?” I repeat softly.
He nods. “Yes. It is a battle that has been raging since the beginning of time. No one knows how or why it started, but most agree that it will never end.”
“But what is it, exactly?” I ask, a hint of impatience edging into my voice.
Kafil doesn’t look at me, just gazes out across the river. “I have already told you,” he answers simply.
I try to keep my voice level. “You haven’t told me anything. Who is fighting this war?”
Kafil raises his eyebrows, as if in surprise. “Why, you are, of course.”
“Me?” Now it’s my turn to be surprised.
“Yes, you.”
“Who am I supposed to fight?”
Kafil sighs. “It is called the Orohb.”
“The Orohb,” I repeat. The name frightens me. “What is it?”
“It is a—” Kafil pauses, then resumes so quickly I’m unsure if I have imagined the slight hesitation. “It is a terrible creature, forged from fire and smoke. A demon, I suppose you could call it.”
“A demon?”
“Yes.”
“Suppose I refuse to fight this Orohb thing. What happens then?”
Kafil shrugs nonchalantly. “Then you die.”
My voice comes out a squeak. “Are you threatening me?”
Kafil shoots me a look that says, “Are you the biggest idiot in the world?” Out loud he says in a matter-of-fact voice, “I’m not going to kill you. The Orohb is.”
“But how can it—”
“The Orohb does not need to fight you directly in order to take your life,” Kafil says, cutting me off. “Like every fire, the Orohb needs fuel to stay lit. That is where you come in, Anuja. You are the fuel.”
My face is blank. “I don’t understand—”
“The Orohb cannot generate its own heat,” Kafil says, his voice verging on sharp. “Therefore it must steal it from you. Between the two of you is an invisible energy field.” He pauses. “No, not an energy field, more like a conveyor belt, going from you to the Orohb and bringing your energy with it.”
One question is buzzing around my head like a crazed bird. “Kafil,” I say, my voice high and quiet, “why me?”
Kafil looks down at me, his face hard and cold. “Because, Anuja,” he says to me, “it is your destiny.”
For a long time, neither of us speak. Finally I break the silence. “The Orohb is the reason I’m so cold.”
Kafil glances over at me. “Yes.”
“And it’s only going to get worse as it steals more and more energy from me.”
“Yes.”
“So I really have no choice in the matter, do I?”
“No, you do not.”
I moan and put my face in my hands. “So where do you fit into all of this?” I murmur. “Why are you here?”
“I already told you, Anuja, I am your guardian.”
“But if it’s my fate to fight the Orohb, why do I need a guardian?”
Kafil shrugs. “I suppose I am not your guardian, precisely. Really I’m closer to being your teacher.”
“You’re going to teach me to fight the Orohb.”
“Yes.”
I ponder this a moment. Then I ask, “Does the Orohb have a guardian too?”
Suddenly Kafil’s face changes. I see a flash of something... anxiety, and... do I spot a glimmer of something else?
Remorse?
“Kafil, are you alright?” I ask him, worried.
And just like that his face is back to normal, stone-hard and without emotion. “Yes, I’m fine.”
I stare at him for a moment, analyzing his inhumanly-passionless face and searching for a trace of emotion. I find none.
“So, when does my training begin?” I ask, changing the subject.
“Right now, if you wish,” Kafil replies. Without waiting for my answer he gets to his feet and begins walking down along the riverbank.
I follow him. His strides are long and fast, and I nearly have to trot to keep up. I cannot judge how far we walk, because everything we pass looks the same: blue and frozen. Finally Kafil stops. “This spot will do.”
He kneels down on one knee and dips his hand into the river. When his hand returns there is a single crystal held between his thumb and index finger. He uncurls my hand and presses the smooth teardrop into my palm.
Then he takes a step back, staring at me expectantly.
I look down at the crystal, then back up at Kafil. “What am I supposed to do with this?” I demand.
“Levitate it,” Kafil replies.
“How?”
“I cannot explain it to you. You know the answer.”
Again I look down at the tiny crystal in my hand. I hold my hand up level with my eyes and say to it in my most authoritative voice, “Levitate!”
The crystal doesn’t move.
I hear a sound. I look up and see Kafil is trying to suppress a laugh.
Annoyed, I look back at the crystal, as if the answer will reveal itself to me.
“You know the answer,” Kafil repeats softly.
I close my eyes and search the corners of my mind, trying to find any kind of response. I find only darkness. “Kafil, I can’t—”
“Look, Anuja,” Kafil says. His voice sounds pleased.
Obediently I open my eyes to find I’ve moved my hands without realizing it.
The hand which Kafil had pressed the crystal into faces upward; the other hand hovers above it, palm facing down.
But this is not what amazes me. As I look closer, I see a tiny blue teardrop in the space between my hands.
It is levitating.
I look back at Kafil, a look of shock on my face. I see he is smiling. “Your first lesson,” he says, “is complete.”
************************************************** ********