Every morning, noon and evening since the night of her rescue, Opal had felt lousy. Her body had recuperated from their encounter with the Shadow Demons. The Healing-Magi had been a great help and her broken leg had mended in less than four weeks. The vision in both her eyes was fine and all the bruising and scabs were gone. But both her nerves and stomach continued to feel discomfort. She hated to be alone. It didn’t matter how well her body felt; her mind would take far longer to recover, if ever.
Her morning ritual started with her trying to get out of bed without falling. This morning, her dear friend and brother by slavery, Aharo, was at her door with tea and something to eat, just like every morning. He entered Opal’s room with his quiet steps, left food on her writing desk, walked to her, placed his hand on her head and then gave her a hug. Somehow, these simple acts enabled Opal to stand.
She thought that was Aharo’s way of reassuring himself all was mending fine with her. Today, he gave her an extra-tight morning hug and a big smile, and then left in his usual loving silence. Aharo talked little. Lady Oliver said Aharo had a broken soul. His body had healed, but many arrows had pierced his spirit.
On this particular morning, Opal was feeling especially sick and had been considering seeing the healer, Lady Oliver, but she decided just to get up and go on with her day. As on most mornings, Opal’s thoughts were of Seamus. On how much that poor excuse for a man had stolen from her. How he had fooled her into believing he was in love with her.
Opal hated the thought that at fifteen she had fallen in love with Seamus, but now she just wanted to castrate him. She knew why he hurt her. His level of evil was deep in his bones. Sadly, however, she couldn’t understand how she had never noticed his deceptions. The thought that kept her going was revenge – to ensure Seamus paid for his deception. For that lying, evil man to freeze to death. She wanted him to pay.
A wave of vertigo came back and she knew she must calm down. After she had cleared her head, she cleaned up and went to eat a bit of what Aharo had left over by her desk. Opal needed enough energy to do her job at the castle. How had she ended up teaching control of strength at this school of extraordinary, beautiful children? She was but the eldest daughter of a traveling merchant.
It was weird the way life changed. Opal had no idea the giant Judge children even existed; these beautiful, amazing children.
Her parents didn’t know she was special. When she was a young girl of ten or eleven, Opal was patient with the other children and an excellent teacher. But her parents hadn’t known she was a Teacher-Magi until later at fifteen Seamus caught her teaching a group of kids how to swim, even though Opal didn’t know how to swim herself. Every time Opal thought of Seamus she ended up with, that loser Seamus, may he end up with bleeding hemorrhoids!
But today, something did happen in the middle of Opal’s morning class—Opal woke to the worried faces of her students, the Headmistress, guards, Lady Oliver and Lady Starr, all of them gawking at her. They were all trying to help Opal, each of them with a different expression of concern, worry, wonder or misgiving. Opal had passed out in the middle of her late-morning lecture.
Picture if you can: Opal on the floor of her classroom and a multitude of humanity, or better referred to as Athany, crowding around and peering over her. Opal lying on a centuries-old rug. Heaven knew the last time it had been beaten. Opal didn’t care about the carpet; she had napped in worse places. However, she didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry.
“How did I end up passed out on the floor?” Opal asked, not expecting an answer. She had dizzy spells, so it was only a matter of time before she would end up inspecting one of the dirty rugs. Opal was told one of her most precious of students had been so happy she had finally been able to be gentle with a delicate crystal goblet and not break it, she gave Opal a hug. It was a loving gesture that had squeezed the living, watery, teary life out of Opal, and she passed out from lack of air.
What fully woke Opal was not any of the people around her or the healing hands of any of the Healer-Magi, but a thunderous yet loving voice that said:
« Get up! You must eat. »
At first, she thought it was the Headmistress’s voice, but she realized The Voice was inside her head and no one else could hear it. She opened her eyes and looked at all those around her, and Opal couldn’t make out anything they were saying. It was as if they were talking in another language. Opal got up very confused and surprised. She heard The Voice again. This time it was even softer, but just as authoritative:
« You must eat and gain energy! »
She couldn’t tell from where this voice came, which surprised Opal, but didn’t scare her.
After Opal was able to register all the other sounds, Cook Starr told her to drink some tea.
“Oh, no, not tea,” said Opal, disgusted at the thought of more tea.
“No more tea, please. I’m hungry.”
The look of wonder was laughable. Opal asked for something to eat and everyone’s eyes opened as wide as soup saucers. The voice did say eat, so she ate.
The Headmistress, Lady Uhna and Lady Starr walked with Opal to the kitchen and gave her soup, which she ate. But Opal saw a row of roasted chickens being prepared for lunch. Opal’s mouth watered at the tantalizing smell of the roasted skin slathered with rosemary and spices. The smell could make a deceased man come back from the dead just for a taste. Opal’s stomach made a characteristic growl of discomfort. She asked for the chicken.
“Could I please have some roasted chicken?”
The look on Lady Starr’s face was priceless. Hesitantly, Starr reminded Opal of her fussy stomach, but Opal insisted that to get healthy she needed more than soup. Starr saw her pleading eyes, so she gave in and served Opal a small portion of roasted chicken and bread. The moment the food entered the young woman’s mouth, a waterfall of saliva covered the morsel of goodness and every spice danced in her mouth, like prima ballerinas dancing the nutcracker. Whoever said that chicken had no flavor had never taken the time to savor a well-seasoned roasted bird.
She ate with the pleasure of a person who had previously lost the sense of taste for years and had suddenly regained it. The soft bread stuck on the roof of her mouth. Opal paid attention to how the crust portion sounded when she bit into it—the crunch. She became part of the sensation of eating. She helped herself to seconds.
Lady Starr and the Headmistress were amused. ‘Surprised’ didn’t even begin to explain the look in their eyes Opal could hear them both saying slow down, don’t overdo it, but the level of the pleasure of eating overtook her.
After fifteen minutes of eating, Opal had eaten half a roasted chicken and she had lost count of how many rolls she had consumed. She then had some pastries and milk, and it was the happy conclusion to a hearty meal. She had eaten more than she had consumed in a week. Lady Starr gazed from Opal to the Headmistress and back. Once Opal was done eating, everyone was expecting her to be ill and regurgitate the meal, but nothing happened. Opal was satisfied. She even went for a walk.
That night at the instructors’ dinner table, Opal could see the other teachers looking at her with half-glances of joy, happy smiles and some concern when they saw her eating again. No one had any idea how Opal could eat so much and not become sick. They suggested she eat slowly, but they kept passing her more and more platters of food. They kept saying to taste this and that, and the other too. The Headmistress told them not to push her: “Let’s not overdo it. We don’t want Opal to get sick again.”
Opal loved every minute of the day, until bad memories came flooding back during dinner.
The Healer-Magi Carmen came to the table a bit late, as usual. She sat next to Opal. Carmen grabbed a small chair, but she left Opal space to move. She knew Opal liked to sit at the corner of the table.
“Miss Oliver said you fainted this morning. I told you your hunger strike was not going to work,” Carmen said.
“I was not on a hunger strike.”
“You used to get ill when you ate but not anymore,” said Carmen. “After today’s chicken feast, look at you! Thank god! I’m glad today you had a good lunch. At least Jena’s hug got your stomach going in the right direction – he, he, he. I remember a woman in my town who used to go on bouts of not eating for weeks and …”
Carmen’s attempt at humor was something to be applauded, but often she would be the only one laughing. And her stories would go on forever. Boy, Carmen loved to talk. Opal had learned to smile during these stories, to make her feel better. Carmen was a Healer-Magi apprentice. When Opal first came to the castle, Carmen was one of the healers who treated her many wounds and retrieved her from the hands of death.
“… But when June found you, we thought you were going to die of your many wounds. That man Seamus deserves to be made into a Hago. After you got better but couldn’t eat, I assumed you were going to die of starvation. But look at you now! I’m happy …”
Carmen meant nothing by it, but her reminder of the night of the rescue made Opal’s mind and thoughts go back to what had happened. Opal remembered the last time she had seen Seamus. It was two days before her rescue. The memories overpowered her mind and the nightmare overshadowed everything.
She would flash back to those memories when she least expected it: in nightmares, while tasting or smelling something, or even when hearing a sound. Opal had seen Seamus two days prior to June’s rescue. And he had done something he had never allowed anyone do before. He had let a strange man spend the entire night alone with Opal. Before, Seamus had always made Opal use her Gift, but there had always been a bodyguard with her.
This horrible man said to Opal, “I don’t want you to teach me anything. I will be your teacher tonight. You will learn. Your Gift will serve me and your Vessel will be filled to serve the Kingdom.”
That man achieved in one night what Seamus had tried to do unsuccessfully in five years: he broke Opal’s spirit.
Seamus had sold Opal to a representative of the Emperor. The next morning, the man left Opal’s vardo to meet with Seamus.
“What do you think? Is her Vessel full and ready?” Seamus gloated.
“She is perfect. I will take her with me, late this afternoon,” said the Emperor’s man.
“What about my gold? I trained her myself. She is bound to me.”
“She is bound to me now! Here is your gold and I will send you another coffer with silver. She was perfect. Not spoiled. Lovely—perfect. It is good you didn’t break either her Gift or her Vessel. As she is now, her Vessel can absorb massive amounts of energy. It is impressive.”
Her dream, a slave’s dream, freedom, it was gone. Opal’s mind accepted her fate for the first time in five years. The voice that kept telling her to fight was no longer talking.
A world turned into dark shadows. Then, later in the morning, she heard the movement of people and wagons, heard the screams of men and animals. Never had there been a greater commotion within the caravan. Many people yelling, screaming and shouting instructions. The commotion sounded dangerous and even Aharo didn’t visit to bring Opal water or food.
Another day without food. For Opal that was a possible solution to her nightmare situation; maybe this time she could die. But no water meant she had to keep smelling that offensive and putrid smell of the man who had visited her the night before.
As the afternoon passed and night came, all became quiet within the caravan of vardos. The silence was odd. The animals had usually made sounds, but not tonight. She was dreading that the horrid man of the previous night would return to get her. Then came screeching and laughing.
The sound of nails scratching rocks and glass. The noise of the circus tarp being torn to shreds and more laughter, like hyenas, accompanied by things falling and buckets being kicked to the side. The sounds became louder and closer. The door of her vardo opened and beings appeared, one on top of another, with their mouths gaping open and two rows of pointy teeth chomping down on Opal’s body. She protected her face with her arms. They hit, bit, punched, stabbed and kicked. Opal kicked back and tried to push them and move out of their way, but she was still chained down to the floor.
In the end she just curled up like a baby, covering her head and face. The beasts shrieked and cackled with a laughter that made her ears hurt. After a few minutes of this brutality, her bruised body stopped feeling pain. The things pulled her hair and yanked it from the root.
Then Aharo came in and shined so brightly the beings collapsed and shrieked in pain as they rushed out of Opal’s vardo.
Opal, almost dead, opened her only working eye and saw her friend protect her with his body. The ugly little shits left in terror and a tall man entered the vardo. The man beat Aharo within an inch of his life, then shackled him to Opal. He took them both out of the vardo and threw them onto the ground. The man turned around and left them for a moment. Aharo took the opportunity to place his left hand on Opal’s head and the other on the ground. In the process, Aharo used the energy of the earth to give Opal life and her hair turned brown.
After Aharo helped bring Opal back from the grips of death, Opal gave in to exhaustion.
The man who had shackled Aharo and Opal to each other was none other than Prince Callo Falesto, the son of Royal Prince Gaston Falesto, elder brother of Emperor Klastos Falesto.
The Shadow Demons belonged to Callo. He commanded and controlled them. Callo was tall and skinny with brown hair and blue eyes. His long hair fell halfway down his back, with two braids on the side of his face. Callo never smiled. His body armor was completely black and covered with knives of different sizes. He was obsessed with knives. Callo was about to kill both Aharo and Opal when two women stopped him.
“CALLO, WAIT! What are you doing?” said Casandra.
Callo was furious. The women had appeared out of nowhere.
“Callo, you know what Father said: ‘Bring me the Gift-Vessel alive,’” said Corry.
“Shut the fuck up! What are you both doing here? Did Father send you?” asked Callo, irritated because he had been interrupted in the middle of a kill.
Corry was his younger sister – a slim, agile, beautiful woman. She had brown, reddish hair, cute dimples and eyes of a color so unconventional they looked red when she was angry. Corry spent a lot of time outside, thus her skin was very tan, making her eyes even more striking. However, Casandra was the total opposite of her siblings. A petite woman, she was not beautiful like her sister but different. Her brown-red hair was very long and thick, and her eyes were dark yellow. Her skin was a neutral color, almost as if it were made of silk, and it bothered her brother.
“What do you think, dear brother? Yes, Father sent us. How do you think our father is ever going to regain his throne from beloved Uncle Klastos if he doesn’t have Gift-Vessels in his ranks?” said Corry, looking satisfied with herself.
“Shut up, Corry! You are nothing but a meddling ass-kisser,” said Callo with all the hate he could give another human.
“Callo, if we hurry maybe we can catch Seamus before he gets too far away. I can stay here and guard this one,” said Casandra. She placed her hands over her brother’s coat as if smoothing its wrinkles. Callo slapped Casandra’s hand off him with force.
“No, you will not stay!”
Corry and Casandra offered to go with Callo and chase after Seamus. Callo wanted to keep Casandra in his sight. He trusted neither of his sisters. He needed to get both Magi—Opal and Dia—to his father, so he left the ugly beings named Spirit Demons behind, guarding the camp.
All went quiet when they left. A few minutes later, Casandra returned. When she neared Aharo, she ordered the Shadow Spirits to stand watch by the forest line. Once they were far enough away, she released the shackles from Aharo and passed energy to him. She was a very special type of Vessel.
“You must help her escape. I’ll take Callo as far away as I can, but he will come back. The Shadow Spirits will evaporate with the morning light, but you must make sure you run away and she lives,” said Casandra. And then she left, running after her brother and sister.
This strange woman had given Aharo what was needed to help him and Opal. After Casandra left, the Shadow Spirits forgot her orders and began to creep closer to Aharo and make screeching sounds. Little light came through the canopy of the trees and only two vardo’s were left. Both were being consumed by fire, but the flames were dying.
The demons got more agitated with the prospect of a kill and with their anticipation for destruction. As the demons growled and got more excited, they turned their backs to the forest, which was when the Blue Judge ran into camp with her flaming blue swords in hand.
June finally arrived at the destination where she had felt the pull coming from that had woken her and made her run. She came sprinting toward the demons, running so fast she looked like she was flying and not touching the ground. Every one of the ugly Spirit Demons attacked her fiercely, screaming and fighting dirty. June used both of her swords, slicing each one of the Spirit Demons from one side to the other. It was a methodical dance that had been learned by instinct and many weeks of getting her ass handed to her by Lady Uhna.
June was performing a ritualistic movement with music only she could hear. In her mind, all June could hear was Rammstein’s Du Hast going on and on, as her arms moved left and right. The blue flame swords came out of her arms and hands. They were part of her body—swords that made a sickle and harvested the heads of those evil beings as she swung her arms from one side to the other.
Prince Callo controlled the Spirit Demons, which he had called forth from a combination of the dirt, dead material and shadows. The demons had short bodies and were as fit as gladiators, with rounded ears as large as their skulls. Like Callo, they would kill with delight. They had frog-like hands and sharp teeth. The Spirit Demons bit June’s arms and attacked without mercy, using short swords as well as teeth, attacking from all sides: from behind and both sides, while others came directly at her from in front. Some tried to land on top of June’s back with their swords pointing down, but her armor withstood the attack.
The music in June’s head continued and June kept slicing off the ugly demons’ heads. In the meantime, Light the chameleon-wolf glowed with a pulsating blue light, blinding the Frogger-looking demons for a few seconds, allowing June moments to cut the heads off the evil life-suckers. June’s head music changed to Eminem’s Lose Yourself and then she really started counting heads. No one knew of her music, but for June that was fine.
June counted but gave up after the first eighteen or so. She must have fought over forty of the ugly leeches and Light had destroyed a good share of them as well.
Whenever something triggered a memory, Opal tried to regain her composure by thinking of something else. She learned to push the memory aside to a remote place in her mind and she used this trick now. Opal needed to think of something else and fast. Her hands were cold and she could barely see. She needed to distract herself.
“I know I asked you this before, but maybe this time you have more time to explain why no one can leave the castle?”
Carmen was about to put a bite of beans in her mouth when Opal asked her a question. After thinking for a few minutes and with a soft voice she said, “My dear friend, you have been with us for over seven weeks now. You have seen the children and what they can do. Think about it. You have experienced the worst that exists outside of this place. Our kids are all training to be Judges. We must protect them until they are ready to decide their path. We know that they are destined to be under the control of the Emperor, but we have faith that one day they will all be free from the curse. Then, they will be real Judges again. They need to know the truth about their nature, but that truth must come slowly. The Athany don’t want to spoil their childhood. They are not human or Lavei or Koddy. They are Athany. Created to defend and arbitrate. However, the people don’t know about the Athany anymore.
“The Emperor has given the Athany orders to hide the children. The people only know the Athany as the King’s Legion, as merciless killers, but not where they come from. The children need training, so when the time comes, each of them can make a choice to live or die for the right reason—for a good cause. The only outsiders allowed inside this castle are those brought in by the Emperor himself or others the Athany find on their campaigns: those Humans such as me, they want to keep as apprentices or servants. But we are mostly orphans or masters of our craft. I was brought in for my skills as a Healer-Magi. I can write to my family, but not give any details of my life here other than I’m alive and providing a service to the King’s Legion,” Carmen said.
“Carmen, we are teaching the children to be warriors.” By now Opal’s mind was completely engrossed in the conversation and forgetting her memories.
“We are teaching them to have control over what they are and what they could be. Without control, Athany will be mindless, heartless killers and that would be a tragedy. The moment they refuse to follow the orders of the Falesto king, they start dying, and they last for two years at the most. We hope the day comes when we don’t have to worry about hiding the Athany children or for them to fear their fate.”
“I understand.”
Desserts were being served and Carmen’s attention shifted to an apple tart and some sugar cookies. At that point, the conversation was over.
All Carmen said was, “We can talk some other time. Look at those cookies!”
The rest of supper went fast, given that Lady Starr’s cookies were famous. All at the castle, kids and adults alike, loved the sugary treats. And Opal’s memories were put back where she liked them, under lock and key.