Haze of Dusk (A trilogy) (14 page)

“Right… my f
ather, not Jorsay. They are not the same person,” I sass, Ronneto chuckles. “Enough with that. Listen carefully Judyala, for we will tell ye the arrangement.” Ronneto says. I give him all my attention, and he explains the rules of deathrow. For one-hourglass, we’re going to battle until death. If in an hour we’re both alive, the fight stops. To hear this, I fall at rest. I see a surviving chance. Until Ronneto admits how the last five challengers died because of head injuries during the fight.  For half an hour glass, we’ll physically battle, beating each other up with punches and kicks. Many have failed to survived this, therefore, Srogeri begs me to avoid falling into Jameson’s fist, who has survived a year of war, and two deathrow challenges.  After the half an hour, both fighters are allowed to use magic, but my instructors insist for me to use no strong powers, but a paralyzing spell, that way we waste time. “Ye’z task is to let the hour run—stay away from the kid, and paralyze. Ye understand.” A serious Ronneto demands. I nod.

“Carry your stone with you, that way if he catches you there is no harm done,” Srogeri says. I swallow hard. Maybe now that I possibly might die I should tell him the truth. Nah, he’ll kill me before the fight. I agree with a nod.

“If she paralyzes
her opponent, wouldn’t it be dangerous? Can I not use magic for her?” Srogeri asks Ronneto. Ronneto moves his head from side to side.

“A
barrier’r encircles the area. No magic can enter or get out. I do not know how it is done…but it is. Judyala will have to do this on her’r own.” Srogeri sighs distressfully. I can see my old man worries for me. One day I’m going to give him a heart attack.

“Ye will do intense training. But this is only utilized
if needed. Ye personal trainer’r is Corr-thesious Delsio. He will train ye every day for twelve hours." It reddens my skin to think Corr is all mine. But twelve hours of training, that’s just torture.

I sit
in the castle’s meadow, avoiding sitting in the mealroom. The day of the battle is near, and everyone comes towards me, wishing me luck, but it’s obvious they mean to say,
farewell forever little chump
. No one has hope for me. I guess it’s hard to believe a scrawny kid can beat that huge kid. Strangely, Ikumus is almost kind to me, and I think he too feels sorry for me. It’s Corr whom has put his mind and soul to train me, teaching me all he knows. He thinks I can win, and for that, I’m thankful.

My life has been quiet since the
brawl. Ramuso and the others are still in prison. Goodness, how I miss his hyper activity, Onnet’s scolding, and Osys’s fear of everything.  It’s unfair they have to pay for defending me. It’s unfair I can’t visit them… what if I die…I’ll never see them again. “Apple,” it’s the first-time Azania speaks to me since our misunderstanding.  I take the red-apple from her hand. She sits next to me. “You came to feel sorry for me too.” I say looking straight to the garden.

“No, why would I… you’re going to win. You’ll see,” I move my sight to her. Her optimistic behavior touches me.
She’s so damn sweet.

“About
that day…”

“Please, let’s not talk about it. I’m…humiliated already,” she
says immediately blushing. “I know I’m not the type of girl boys like… I’m not pretty or appealing…”

“Oh, don’t say that. You
are
beautiful. You really are,” I insist,
again I did it
. She stares at me with sparkling eyes. “You see… I have a problem…I… I like boys…it’s why I rejected you.” I almost spill the truth.
Holy crap, if Jorsay knows I’m tainting his life, he’ll cut my throat.
Azania's eyes rise. She smacks her hands on her chest, I fear a stroke. “B-but you are so p-perfect…I thought…” she falls into a strange stupor. It’s obvious the cute elf girl has feelings for my brother, and I’m breaking that opportunity. Azania is a girl I would love for my brother to date. She is innocent, and kind. Maybe I should tell her the truth, tell her she still has a chance… Jorsay likes girls…too damn much really. “Well, I guess I kind of understand. Don’t worry. I promise it’ll be our secret,” although disappointed, she’s faithfully sweet. 

“We can still be f
riends, right?” She asks smiley, with a stunning grin, bringing out a serene glow that outlandishly calms my nerves.

The fact deathrow
battle is a day away pushes my heart down to my stomach. There is no prior interest in studying. In my mind I simply repeat the plan
. Waste time; don’t let the kid hit me. Then, paralyze his bulky as,
nothing more
.

“Zayras,” I
hear a constant voice repeat itself. My head rests on my hand that’s on the desk. A dark figure steps in front of me. I carelessly look at Khysso who stands near me. “I asked you a question. But it seems you are not here. Apprentice Zayras, in this division you either pay attention, or you leave. You comprehend me.” I sigh annoyed by him.
Trust me, if I have the strength I would leave
.
This fellow has no consideration
.

“Sorry…” I
say quietly yet not changing my attitude. He chuckles, and walks away from me, surprisingly without saying another word.

The hourglass
ends, and I miserably pick up my material. “Apprentice Zayras, can I have a word with you?” I exhale and nod.  Let me guess, he too wants to say his farewell, show me pity, like the entire classroom.  Khysso waits for the class to empty, then, as he coolly sits on his chair, he takes something from his pocket and lays it on the desk. It is a palm size black mineral, with white cracks that bring out a gaudy blue glow. “Take it, I’ll lend it to you,” I scoff. How dare he lend it to me? It belongs to me. Well…it belonged to me.

“It’s been so long…” I whisper
reaching for it.

“With this
, you ought to stay alive,” he says before I take it in my hands.  I yank my hand away from the stone. “You think…I can’t beat him,” I utter sentimentally. 

“You expect me to think a girl can
beat a chap like that,” I clench my teeth, the
girl
in his phrase bringing out the flame in me. “You think I can’t beat him because I am a girl!” I snap. He lifts his eyebrows. He’s staggered by my attitude. Even if we once related, he’s still my instructor, and I’m his apprentice. He chuckles. I can see he’s trying to endure with me, in which is peculiar, because this is the instructor no one talks back too, the one everyone fears. But not me, maybe it’s because of the secret we share or because we befriended years ago.“No, because… he has a lot more experience than you. Very well, you can overcome if its sorcery against magician, but physical strength…do not compare. You are scrawny, intolerant, and delusional if you think you have a chance,” although he says it calmly, I’m infuriated that he, like everyone else doesn’t believe in me.

“Whatever, I don’t need the stone, thanks anyways,” I
say disenchanted and rather emotional.  “Zayras wait…” I hear him call me, but there’s no turning back. I’ll show them all that I, Judyala Zayras am not only a great sorcerer, but an outstanding fighter as well.
You will all see…

That night, although I attempt
ed to shut eye, it was impracticable. The fight is the only concept in my mind. It is no longer about the anxiety or dying. It is about showing the world… especially Khysso, I am capable of defeating that boy. I don’t understand my interest to overcome, but profoundly within me; it is what I need to feel release.  I take a deep breath and sit up from my bed. Sleeping intensely is Corr and Ikumus.  I walk towards Corr. He is the only one who truly believes in me.

“
Thank you…” I whisper, observing his perfect face fall into a deep slumber. That moment, as I see him sleep my heart tickles. It’s there I realize my crush is growing for Corr. He has control over my anger. His gentle words always calm me down. Corr’s blonde hair falls on his face. I reach my hand to fondle his skin,

“Casandree…” his word freezes
me. I pull away from him. I'm a fool, for crushing on a man whose heart is already taken.

After hearing Corr called her name
, I no longer wanted to be in the room. I need to feel at ease, thus, I walk to the swan garden, for its beauty drifts me.  It's uncommon to see the place at such an hour. The area is peaceful. It's delightful to view the unfamiliar obscurity. I head to the area where Azania took me, which in the dusky night, the fireflies increase, looking prettier than ever.  I attempt to capture one to embrace its beauty, but they move too quickly. Exhausted with my life in Doomsvell, I lay on the grass, feeling more relax than any other day.  The stars twinkle, and the moon is almost full.  Staring at the sky, I envision myself winning the battle. People praise my name, many times,
Judyala
.

The silence takes over my skin
, and I gradually fall into a doze, in my mind is my little brother, who I miss more than anything else in the world.
An inhuman shriek draws my attention. I wake up accelerated by the noise. The loud wail scares me, but I’m also curious.  I follow the bellow that now sounds like shared panting. I stride profoundly into a path of hedges to find a dark-hair man on top of an almost topless woman. I gasp
. Holy crap, did I just interrupt a couple in their intimate moment.
 

“I’m so-sorry…” I stutter
, their attention on me. The dark night does not reveal them, but as he rushes away from her, and she stands in a hurry covering herself, I take a good note of her appearance. My heart sinks, and my skin curls with revulsion, not supporting the encounter I run away. I now identify her and the dark hair man. I run without a stop, until I reach my room. There, in front of my door, I crash in agitation. I place both hands on my mouth. My body is hurting. I can’t believe it…it was them, Khysso and Casandree, together.

-11-

Capricious

When I look deeply into his eyes, I want to confess the wretch of a woman he loves, but the admiration I feel towards him doesn’t allow me to say what I saw. He doesn’t deserve it.  He is too good. Corr takes my shoulders. His light eyes meet mine, the heat of his body fleeting through my skin, tenderly concerning my emotions. “You can do this, don’t look back…and fight. If you feel you are stronger with magic than physical, distract him. If you think you are physically stronger, put him down,” he reminds, seconds before entering the center of the ring. The arena has over a thousand people. The instructors all sit on the center, on the best seats, watching how two young boys kill one another. It’s sad to know deathrow is never going to be shut down. It was created years ago by the great leaders. A way to show we work united, and if we don’t get along, then we can kill one another. It is a justification, a way to force us to get along. This has worked great on plenty of people, but not on Jameson. He is angry at Jorsay. His anger turns him into a monster, one who doesn’t care about killing. His desire is to kill me like he did to a young kid a year ago; a blow on the head knocked him dead. Now it’s my turn. Jameson's soul is lost. He cares for nothing, but his victory.

My hands
are wrapped in a black strap up, protecting my fist. Although we aren’t allowed to wear a top, I wear a round neck sleeveless tunic, with calves brown slacks. “If I don’t make it…I want to say, thank you for being my friend. You and the others have been my first companions and…”

“Hey! Stop being a girl. Nothing bad is going to happen t
o you. Go fight!” Corr commands. I press my lips together. I want to blurt out the truth—I’m a girl, Casandree is a bad person, and my heart races for you, but there is no time. The first bell chimes. It is the call out ring. I leave the dim preparation cavern and walk to the center of the arena. Jameson too comes out, but from the opposite side. The audience doesn’t applaud—a few kids scream Jameson’s name, but over their cheers I also hear my name. Ramuso and the others are on the first row, calling my name, being the great friends they are. A heavy weight falls from my chest. I’m relief they’re safe. In the end, my old man kept his promise of taking them out. I feel stronger now. I can win this. 

Jameson
stands looking strong. Every part of his body is pack with muscles. His arms are hard like a rock, his neck thick, and his stomach unbreakable. I gulp, and take a quick look at myself. Jorsay is thin, good body, not much bicep. I wonder how the hell he bullied the gigantic kid.  Two poundings of a bell means let the battle begin. I get on my fighting position—pick up hands and loose fist to counter my attacks.  Jameson’s fighting position is close fist. His knuckles are ready to burst my face.

I recall
everything Corr taught me, and I closely pay attention to Jameson's movements. He strikes first, but I dodge it by moving to the side. He blows again, but I stir. I can’t let us meet face to face, for all he needs is one hit to make me his, and I can’t let him take that pleasure. Jameson moves forward with a stiff punch to my face, but I smack it with a hand and come out with a high kick striking him on his ribcage. I scoff. I’m shock of my skills.
I can’t believe I’m doing it. I really am.

Jame
son doesn’t reveal his anxiety. He briskly stands up straight, overlooking the kick on the ribcage, and hurries to me with a kick. I push myself back, swivel to his back, and slam my elbow on the back of his neck.  He tumbles, almost falling. But in a haste he stands straight. I can see his fist now shake…could it be he is worried? I smile to hear my friends cheer my name. It is a wonderful feeling. I’m amazed by my skills, but of course, I have the best fighter in the world coaching me. Corr, my sweet Corr. I can see him near my friends, also cheering for me, crossing his fingers.

It seems as if Jameson is willing
to waste time. We go in circle. I wait for his first shot, but he does nothing.  I guess he wants to meet my magic. He shouldn’t want that, for he won’t ever be able to release himself from my paralyzing powers. The audience begins to shout,
“fight!”
  Their screaming excites the kid. He tosses his body to the left, rising with a high kick, but I foolishly run from it. The crowd laughs. I exhale relieved he didn’t catch me.

“Jorsay the girl!” Jameson's friends shout. I scoff,
big morons, I am a girl.

“Come on, fight h
im.” His friends bellow.
What is wrong with these kids? They should know fighting means death. Don’t they care about our lives?
Jameson comes in strongly, punching without any consideration. At first, I dodge a few punches, but his hands move with such a speed it's hopeless to prevent the upcoming. I become exhausted. I can no longer block. Jameson's knuckle hits me on the top of my head. The blow drops my concentration, but not my awareness. I shift spot. He dashes to me— I swing a high kick that slaps him on the chin and as he wiggles, I boot him on the chest. My force finally drops him to the ground.

The arena falls s
till, and I’m breathing heavily by my many motions— I’m out of breath. Jameson stays down. He faces the filthy ground. The crowd murmurs, his stillness concerns us all. I jog to him, “Jameson… are you alright?” I ask squatting to his level. Jameson curves his body to meet with me—he glares a way that curls my skin. I’m frightened by his glower. It’s dishonest, repulsive to stare at.  He boots me on my ankle transmitting an excruciating pain that drops me to the ground. I hold my ankle, digging my nails to my skin to support the sting.  He stands, there is no giving up. I have to fight. I bawl as I press my leg to stand. The cracking noise that my ankle made when he hit, assures breakage. Jameson growls. He runs to me and bangs his head with mine, pushing me to my rear. I dazzle. I almost lose awareness, and I fall on my behind. I feel as if firecrackers exploded in my head, causing severe damage. My head buzzes stridently, blocking the cheers and heckling.  I gulp. My body trembles, yet again I force myself up. My broken ankle throbs.  I don’t want to place any weight on it. Once done, I holler a cry. This is it, I lost. Jameson is now in control.

He rushes to me, and places
a hand on my shoulder. With his free hand he punches my stomach without a stop. Not even the blood I cough out stops his beating. He has...no compassion. I fall on my knees and before my face meets the ground he grabs me from my hair. He lifts a hand gripping strength, in a haste his knuckle jabs my face, plunging me down. There's nothing more but numbness in me. In my mind, my most insightful thought… I lost the war, now I have shown weakness.

“That’s enough you bastard. I'll kill you. I'll challenge you and I will kill you bastard. You leave him alone!” I recognize that voice. It’s my good friend Ramuso. I want to tell him I’m fine, even though it’s a lie. “It hurts doesn’t it? It hurts… but don’t worry, I’m not going to finish you just yet. It’s my staff that will take your peace of shit life. I might’ve not been great before…but now… I have gained control …now, I can finish your little ass with one blow.” He says as I lay on the ground, choking on my own blood. He hauls away from me, and looks at the crowd.  He raises his hands.

“I will prevail!” he shouts
, his friends cheering for him. I hear it all, so many voices, so much screaming, but everything is distant. What pounds strongly is my heart, for I have decided to forget kindness. Once the bell rings, and magic is allowed… forget paralyzing him…I will destroy him. So yes…waste time little boy, because in me, there is no more forgiveness. I will annihilate you.

I force myself to stand on my two feet. I will fig
ht until the end. I won’t show weakness. “Jorsay! What are you doing? Stay down!” I hear Corr holler, in union with other voices insisting for me to lay low. I frown. I’m upset he too thinks I can’t make it. I’m broken by everyone’s doubt towards me. When I was winning, they cheered my name. Now, they beg me to stop fighting. No, I’m never quitting. A Zayras never quits. I never quit. I get on my fighting position. Jameson gnashes his teeth. “You still want some of this,” he says through his teeth. The anger in him is unreasonable.  He hurries to me, and punches my face. I mean to block, but his preserve blows confound my determination to fight. He gives me no chance. I protect my façade by throwing my arms on my face, letting him hit my elbows, hoping he sees I fear another blow, but he gives no less.  He wildly punches me getting to my right cheek, and severely crushing my lower face. My jaw cracks. And with that pound I fall on the ground, this time without any purpose of getting up.

I’m partly dead, yet I hear the kid laugh. He praises words I hear far-away, for my numbness is brutal. “Magicians, magicians-magicians!” he shouts, and rapidly many
kids scream with him.  I scoff. I’m shock the kid has no heart. Really, he has no soul. That’s it, I’m done for. I can’t do this anymore. He’s going to kill me before the next bell. “Thump, thump!” it is the sound of a bell that helps my heavy eyes open. Finally, the time has arrived, the time to use magic, and I’m going to destroy him.

I cough out blood, with my only working eye I observe Jameson get his staff from a friend. He’s excited, ready to end me.
Because of his beating I’m inflated. My lips are slit. My nose is twisted. My ankle is broken, and my hearing is damage. Because of him, I’m feeling a pain I never thought I would ever, and I’m covered in my own gory hell. He lifts his staff high in the air, absorbing great powers. By the tingling in my skin, I can tell it’s an electrifying power that will reach the pulse of my heart, immediately shutting it down. I force myself up. I hear many scream,

“Jorsay run!” “Jameson
stop it!” “Don’t do this!” but nothing touches that boy’s heart…nor will it touch mine. I chuckle, lightly consuming my powers by using my mind. He’s guzzling too much power. After that…he is done… for his energy will be too fragile. Rule number one for magicians; never start with strong tensions when striking.  

“Rot…in…hell!”
he bellows, sending a lightning, but I slow it down by using my mind. I break it and whiz it to another location. He now looks at me in panic. I can see him shaking. His fear accelerates my needs to overcome.

The skies darken, and the clouds beneath us slither with
lightning. I change the gravity around us, its intensity raising me to the air. I paralyze Jameson. I want him still for what’s coming. “Don’t do it!” his voice makes me consider forgiveness, but it is too late. I'm furious. The rocks around us elevate. The walls of the arena are deranged with fire. I’m now in control of the deadly twist. My main attraction is staying alive.  I send out more power bringing my creation to me. The sudden scream of the viewers doesn’t alert me. They fear what I have summoned, the blue snake dragon, he who will consume his enemies. He moves in the air quick, a powerful wind escalates, seizing everyone around, bringing apprehension to the audience.

“No
please…no…” Jameson knows what’s coming to him. Now he’s the one tearing. I gradually raise a hand, “annihilate your enemy.” I command the dragon whose body is radiant with voltage, and his roaring shakes the earth. He streams to Jameson, his intentions are fatal. “No… Judyala, no!” Srogeri yells. I glower.
Judyala…no…but I’m Jorsay.
I observe my hands. They are delicate, and my fingers again sensitive yet pale. My long red hair flows with the wind. I gasp.

“What have I don
e,” it’s the last thing revealed, before Jameson's physical beating finally catches up to me, knocking me down.

-
12
-

Judyala
’s verdict

An angel comes from another world to sit by me, and soothingly caress her tender hands on my face. I’m in paradise. For the first time since my father's departure, I feel loved, and I love in return. And although I don’t know who she is, her softness delights my heart. She presses her lips on my cheek, genial like a gentle bird. The sensation of her lips still penetrates me. I recognize this warmness. It is that sentiment that was taken from me when I was a little girl— kept away in a pruned ball.
“Mommy…” it is her, my real mother. The one I prayed for so many nights to be loved by. My sweet mother whom I know nothing of— has she left this world to join another or is she really sitting by my side?  Could it be I am fading to another world, and she personally came to get me? I want to confide in her. Tell her how much I need all of her. But even though I seek for her, I can’t go with her, not yet. There are still unsealed things in my life, and for the first time ever, I have friends. I have people to share my life with. I want to tell her of Ramuso’s trouble making nature, Osys’s fear of everything, and of Onnet's sensitivity. Ask her why my heart races when I'm near Corr. I desire to share with her so much, but my heavy body doesn’t allow me to do anything but enjoy her company.  And so she begins humming that song she used to sing to me when I was a baby, as her delicate fingers stroke my face,

Slumber in my arms my child,

I whisper in your ear,

How much I love you near,

You are so dear,