Lor Mandela - Destruction from Twins (52 page)

“After him!” Jonathan commanded. “Now!” He
watched his remaining soldiers charge into the forest, and then
rushed to Audril’s side.

T
he Council Hall at Trysta Palace buzzed with excitement. For
the first time in more than six years the Council was convening.
Delegates, who thought they would never see another gathering,
were, at long last, reunited. Among them were representatives from
lands once deserted, (now in various stages of renewal);
representatives for the Trystas, and the delegates of Mandela City.
There were also three newly-appointed delegates; Lortu of the
Shadow Dwellers; Tabbit, of the Shadow Squanki; and Bridgette
Lawson, of Glenhill, Iowa.

As the council members settled into their
blue satin chairs the platforms rose to the appropriate levels. The
motion and staggered heights of the platforms added to the overall
sense of activity and exhilaration in the room. The radiant sun
streamed through the crystal ceiling above, sending a flood of
energizing warmth, and ribbons of vibrant color dancing across the
rich brown walls.

When the majority of the
delegates had settled in, the three large doors at the back of the
hall swung open with a
clunk
. The delegates rose to their
feet and started applauding.

Kahlie entered through the door on the left.
She was dressed in a long, stunning black gown encrusted about the
bodice with hundreds of tiny sapphires. Around her neck was a
delicate, cascading necklace that shimmered and sparkled in the
rays of light and color. Her long wavy, now black, hair was also
dotted with small sapphires that matched her deep blue eyes
perfectly. She bowed to the delegates, and lowered to one knee.

The applause exploded into cheers and
whistles as Jonathan entered from the door on the right. He was in
a black tuxedo with a bright cobalt sash. He placed his gloved hand
on top of Kahlie’s and also lowered to his knee.

Suddenly, the roaring applause literally
doubled in volume as Audril—dressed in a beautiful, vivid blue,
floor length gown—appeared through the door in the center. She
glanced uncomfortably at her dad and Kahlie, who were bowing to
her, and motioned nervously for them to get up. They chuckled, and
rose to their feet, and together with Audril, strolled past the
cheering council members to the red velvet chairs on the platforms
at the center of the room.

After the lengthy ovation, a hush fell over
the crowd.

“Council members of New Lor Mandela,” a
voice echoed out from the top of the room, “prepare for the reading
of the lineage!”

“Our highest ruler, Jonathan Borloc . . .
Atoc of Lor Mandela.”

Jonathan stepped on to his platform, and it
rose almost to the ceiling.

“His entrusted, Kahlie Nenia Borloc . . . by
marriage, Ator of Lor Mandela . . . by birth, Nenia tu Sybran of
the Trystas . . . Daughter of Ultara, and as called, Vritesse of
the Trysta People.”

Kahlie moved on to her platform which
ascended until it was next to Jonathan’s on the left.

“And in conclusion of our noble and great
succession, Atoh Audril Borloc, daughter of Atoc Jonathan Borloc
and our beloved departed Ator Gracielle tu Morning of the Trystas
and in the ancient language of our Derite ancestors, Clest Anaria .
. . The Child of Balance.”

Again the room was filled with raucous
cheers and applause.

She mounted her platform, and it rose to
just below her dad’s and Kahlie’s.

After the resurgence of applause faded,
Jonathan lowered to his seat, followed by the rest of the council.
He leaned forward and pressed a small green button on the arm of
his chair. The room darkened and his platform glowed in the
signature Borloc blue.

“My friends,” he began, “it’s good to be
together again." He turned his eyes to Kahlie, who nodded in
agreement. “First of all, Ator Kahlie, my daughter and I wish to
express our thanks to you and your communities for your support and
faith on our behalf. Many marvelous things have taken place on Lor
Mandela." He waited for the clapping that followed to die down
before adding, “As you are all aware, I have recently taken Kahlie
as my entrusted. With the passing of Ultara, she was also called as
the Trysta vritesse.”

He looked lovingly at Kahlie. He could have
never imagined that the gawky girl who used to daydream and flit
around Mandela Palace would one day hold such an honored position .
. . or his heart. Admittedly, at first, his feelings for her had
frightened him a bit; he didn’t want to forget Gracielle, but it
was Kahlie’s own love for Gracielle that finally assured him that
she would never be forgotten; she would always be a part of them
all. After staring at Kahlie for several seconds, he cleared his
throat and continued. “I believe that this symbolizes a new era on
Lor Mandela . . . a new beginning. It has been more than a thousand
years since the ator has also been the vritesse. It speaks to us of
unity and peace . . . of oneness.”

Oneness
, Audril repeated in her mind. She marveled at the power of
the word “one." It had been the recurring theme in the Advantiere.
One planet divided had to become one again to survive. Twins had to
be one to restore the decay and deterioration of one soul. Two
races that had ruled side by side for generations were now a single
ruling body—one. The final line of the Advantiere,
Then will ONE forever reign
, echoed over and over again in her head.

Suddenly, a sobering
realization swept through her mind. The pictures—the faces she’d
seen on the wall—until this very moment, she’d forgotten the last
one. It hadn’t been Kahlie’s like she’d remembered at the time of
the battle. The last face she saw that day in the Advantiere Room
had been her own. The line that she’d assumed referred to
Ryannon—
One must be as these words
written
,—was actually fulfilled by
both
Ryannon and Kahlie.
Twins had to act as one, and speak the words that were
written—together. Only after they did, would the destruction caused
by twins be undone. Only then would ONE forever reign.

It was
her
! The last line of the Advantiere—it
was to be fulfilled by her. Then will one forever reign.
Forever. . .forever.
Was
that why Ryannon hadn’t been able to kill her?

She sat in a contemplative daze on her
platform for the rest of the meeting. Even after the majority of
the delegates were gone, she remained deep in thought, sitting on
her burgundy velvet chair, staring into space.

It was Kahlie who first noticed how
distracted she was.

“Audril? Hey Buzz, what is it?” At this
point, both Bridgette and Jonathan had joined Kahlie and were
looking with concern at Audril.

“Angel,” Jonathan tried, “are you all
right?”

Audril’s eyes were glassy and distant.

“Dad, I think I know why the dagger didn’t
kill me.” As she said it, her expression changed from dazed to
terrified. "It didn’t kill me . . . because I don’t think I can be
killed.”

“What?” Jonathan chuckled, “Yeah, well that
would be wonderful, sweetheart, but . . . .”

“No, Atoc.” A familiar voice oozed from a
wall a few feet behind them. “Ze atoha ees correct.”

A dark wave rippled across the wall as Lortu
slinked out of the shadows.

“De Child of Bahlanz. De Clest Anaria, she
ees now eemortal.”

He glided across the room and looked Audril
in the eyes. “Aye was wondereeng how long eet would take for hair
to feegure eet out.”

“What,” Audril whispered, “how?”

Lortu paced around for a moment. “Dis
beezness of doeeng tings just to be nice ees not profitting de
Noble Lortu.”

“You were given a spot on the council,
Lortu. What more do you want?” Jonathan retorted.

“Aye am requiring a portal, Atoc, in De Bogs
. . . only one portal. If you would arrange eet weeth your friend,
Tabbeet . . . ?”

“Out of the question!” Jonathan snapped. “So
you can what? Transport Ryannon off of Lor Mandela? How much has he
paid you, Lortu?”

Lortu growled at him as though he was
thoroughly disgusted. “Ryannon of Brashnell does not have anyting
dat Lortu desires,” he seethed. “He ees de enemy. He will never be
maye best offer!” He turned and in a huff moved back toward the
wall.

“No, wait!” Audril blurted. “Please, Lortu .
. . don’t go!”

Lortu looked into her pleading blue eyes and
sighed. He walked back to Jonathan, and explained, “Dis portal . .
. It weel benefit de both of us zomeday zoon, Atoc.”

The anger was visibly slipping from his face
as he went on. “But, eef you say no, for de good of your people,
aye weel not put de Lor Mandela een danger. Aye weel steel tell you
what leetle aye know about de atoha.”

Jonathan studied Lortu’s face. There was
nothing there but sincerity—something that was not commonly found
in a Shadow Dweller’s countenance.

“I’m sorry Lortu,” he apologized, “I
shouldn’t have been so quick to judge." He thought for a moment and
then added, “You and I will discuss this portal. If I can see the
benefit, and you can assure me that it will be very well hidden,
I’ll have Tabbit accompany you to The Bogs.”

“Ahhh, tank you, Atoc.” Lortu bowed. “De
atoha,” he explained, “she was geeven a gift in exchange for
saveeng de Lor Mandela. She ees geeven great powah, and all
eternity to use eet.”

“Wait! How? I mean, what
power?” Audril stammered. “I don’t understand. You’re saying that
I’m . . .
immortal?
” It was difficult for her to even say the word. “How? I
mean, how is that even possible?”

Lortu paced along the back wall. As he did,
he ran his thin hand slowly along its rich brown surface. It was
odd to watch his hand disappear and reappear as it slid in and out
of shadow. “De Shadow Dwellers know many tings, but we do not know
all,” he explained. “What we do know, Atoha, ees dat de answers you
seek . . . de answers only you can find . . . day are steel hidden
from you.” He leaned against the wall and slowly faded into it. His
final words resonated from a dark corner after he vanished from
sight. "Day are steel hidden in de Advantiere.”

“Y
ou know . . . you’re gonna have to speak to him eventually.”
Audril leaned playfully against Bridgette and made a pouty face.
“Look at him,” she continued, “he looks so sad!”

She was referring to Glaron, who was
standing across the ballroom from them, looking very handsome, but
also very gloomy.

It had been three weeks since the battle,
and since Bridgette had realized that the guy she thought she was
in love with was actually someone else. There was something about
the fact that he was a twenty-six year old magical alien that made
her feel sort of violated. She’d been doing a masterful job of
avoiding him—until now.

“I don’t even know him,” she responded
defensively, but then turned to the side a little and pretended to
be fidgeting with her dress so that Audril couldn’t see her glance
in his direction.

“You thought I was someone different too,
Bridge,” Audril scolded, “and you still speak to me.”

“That’s different,” she
replied. She spun to face Audril and raised her head like she was
snubbing Glaron. “You didn’t know you were someone else.
He
did!” She smoothed
the skirt of her pale pink gown and continued, “It makes me mad, ya
know? It makes me so mad, I just wanna, I dunno . . . I just
wanna,” She rolled her hand into a fist. "punch him right in the
nose!”

Audril grinned and her eyes widened. “Well,”
she smirked, “here’s your chance.” She looked past Bridgette, to
Glaron, who had come over and was now standing right behind
her.

“Mmm hmmm,” he cleared his throat, “may I
have this dance?” He bowed humbly, and then added, “Please, Bridge,
don’t say no.”

Bridgette slowly turned to face him. She had
to admit that he did look stunning in his dress uniform. “Oh, all
right,” she agreed, “just one dance, though!”

He smiled and playfully asked, “You’re not
going to punch me in the nose, are you?”

“I might,” she snipped. She took his arm,
and walked with him to the dance floor.

Audril was left alone with her thoughts.
What a ride this had been! She couldn’t believe all that had
happened in such a short time. She looked out over the festive
celebration before her; everyone seemed so happy. The ladies were
beautiful in their many colored gowns, and the men were dashing in
their suits and uniforms. Couples danced, friends visited and
laughed. It was truly a glorious scene.

What she couldn’t understand, however, was
why—in the midst of all this contentment—she felt so uneasy and so
miserable. Maybe it was because she didn’t have someone special in
her life. It seemed like everyone else did. Bridgette, her dad, and
Kahlie—they’d all found love. All she’d found was some lunatic
murderer who cared little about anyone but himself.

The song that had been
playing ended, but Bridgette and Glaron stayed on the floor.
“
Just one dance,
though!
” Audril mocked Bridgette. “Yeah,
like I didn’t see that one coming!”

Just then, there was a tap on her shoulder.
It was so light that at first she almost didn’t feel it. She turned
around to see a tiny little creature bouncing up and down behind
her. “Oh . . . hello, Tabbit!” she grinned. “Don’t you look lovely
this evening?”

Tabbit twirled around in her shimmery peach
dress, giggled and repeated, “Don’t you look lovely this evening?”
She reached up for Audril’s hand and whispered, “Times to dances,
Atoh Lady!” She winked and then started pulling Audril along toward
the dance floor.