Shattered Destiny (2 page)

The portal was still surrounded by fiery orange symbols that, when activated, would take anyone entering to the world represented by that hieroglyph. Brok hoped that meant Gwen was on her way. She had been scared to enter the portal, so he'd agreed to let her go last.
If she doesn't appear soon, I'll go back for her.

Brok glared at Saemus and Jon, who seemed capable of nothing more than staring open-mouthed at the two Volgon women. Brok could not blame them. The pair made quite the impression. They were tall and muscular, with curves in all the right places. Kyron, Voilor, and Feeror, the male Volgons, were also quite impressive, well-muscled and standing a few inches taller than the statuesque females. Kaelin and Keera both tried to look everywhere but at the handsome Volgon males, wanting to sneak a peek at their most private areas and yet completely embarrassed by the thought.

“What is the other use you spoke of?” Seelyr asked.

Further discussion was interrupted by the arrival of Gwen through the portal. She fell to the ground, retching and shuddering. Keera knelt beside her friend, handing Gwen her clothing. Gwen stood and turned at the sounds of disgust coming from the Volgons.

“What is the meaning of this?” Feeror's face contorted in repulsion.

“What is the meaning of
what
?” Keera faced the large Volgon, arms akimbo, face tight with fury.

“That!” Feeror pointed at Gwen. “She is no warrior! How can this be?”

“She is Chosen, like the rest of us. She bears the mark of our planet.” Jon shielded Gwen from Feeror and the other Volgons who had now come to stand with their comrade.

“She is no warrior. On my world, she would have been killed at
birth. Those who are deformed and weak cannot fight. Everyone knows this. Why would your world waste precious resources on someone so worthless?” Kyron sneered at Gwen.

“We have to fight an enemy more powerful than anything even we warriors have ever seen. She cannot fight. Bah!” Voilor spat to one side. He could not imagine having to interact with someone so obviously weak.

Brok pushed between the Astran Chosen and the Volgon Chosen, face filled with fury. His power welled within, ready to be unleashed. “Now see here—”

“This is folly! Everyone needs to calm down so I can explain!” Gerok's voice was lost in the commotion. Even with all the time he had spent on Volgon, training his Chosen, he'd had no idea of the depth of their repulsion for those they considered weak.

Gwen struggled into her clothes and tried to ignore the shouting. The tears fell down her face, hot streaks of humiliation falling to the dirt. Her hands shook as she fumbled with the tie on her tunic. She bit her cheek hard to keep from sobbing aloud. She did not want to give the Volgons the satisfaction. Gwen peered around from behind Keera's legs. Her friends and classmates faced the imposing Volgons, who were still shouting. At each “weak”, and “useless”, and “deformed” her humiliation grew. While on the watery world of Gentra, her dwarfism hadn't been noticed by the Volgons. She had been smaller than the rest but the gelatinous body of the Gentrans hadn't given away her deformity.

A whole lifetime of being taunted, teased, pushed and shoved, and made to feel less than everyone around her filled her with a rage that she had never allowed herself to feel until now. As her anger grew, so did the power raging through her. She looked to Feeror, who backed away from the Astrans and refused to proceed as long as Gwen was around.

Gwen snarled and moved toward Feeror as fast as her stunted legs could carry her.

Feeror laughed. “I think we made it angry!” He stood nonchalantly and waited for the dwarf girl to come closer.

Gwen moved her arms forward lightening quick. Feeror's eyes widened as he found himself thrown backward. He hit the wall hard
and crumpled to the ground. Gwen grinned maniacally and used her power to pull the dazed Volgon to his feet. His comrades tried to stop her and were baffled to find that they could not get near her. The air had turned into an impenetrable barrier that they could not pass. Brok and Gerok yelled at Gwen to stop. Their words fell on deaf ears.

Gwen held Feeror against the wall, his feet a full meter off the ground. His face turned an alarming shade of purple. The big warrior dug at the vice-like grip of air encircling his throat but could find no purchase. He lashed out, hoping to land a kick to the dwarf girl, but her shield of air protected her.

“Oh, such a
tough
man! Can't even fight a little air,” Gwen said mockingly as she moved closer still. “Well, come on then! Let's see if you can get out of this!” She screamed, “What are you, weak and useless? HEY! I'm talking to you!” She let the Volgon drop to the ground but she still held his throat with air. She kicked Feeror as hard as she could. His movements were becoming feeble and his dark brown eyes rolled back in his head.

She continued to kick at the Volgon as he lay on the ground. She was so focused on the Feeror that she didn't notice Jon move up behind her, didn't see the black film that covered his blue eyes. Gwen felt a new power like a deep bass rumble in her chest. Her shield shattered, and Brok moved in to protect her from the Volgons, who looked ready to tear her limb from limb.

“Stop this at once! We have too much to do to waste time on such nonsense! This is why the Masters of Gentra wanted the Chosen to spend time with one another. You
must
work together. The fate of the galaxy rests on your shoulders!” Brok shook Gwen, who still held Feeror in bonds of air. The Volgon had ceased to move. She turned away in horror, the full impact of her actions hitting her. She let the man go and collapsed in Brok's arms, sobbing. Brok's eyes filled with tears as he held the tiny, twisted girl. He had never before realized how much Gwen had suffered at the hands of others. His heart broke for her.
But she is so much more than this deformed body. She is strong in magic and in spirit. She will need both before the end.

“The girl
must
die! The attack on our comrade was unprovoked.”
Seelyr squatted next to Feeror, who coughed and gasped for air. The man struggled to speak.

“No one touches the girl. No one!” Feeror croaked. He looked at Gwen, his face a stony mask. He stood on shaky legs, brushing off his comrades’ attempts to help. “We have work to do. We should be about it.”

Brok nodded and fixed a stern eye on Jon. He motioned for the boy to follow him.

“What were you thinking?”

Jon crossed his arms over his chest. “I got through her shield.”

Brok pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes, but you drew on the forbidden magic to do it. Did you even try to use your own power?”

Jon nudged a rock with his toe, refusing to meet Brok's eyes.

Brok put a hand on the boy's shoulder. “Did you not read the book I gave you? The one about Lord Lucian?”

Jon nodded sullenly.

“The dark power is seductive, powerful. Everyone who uses it thinks they can handle it, can control it. It's an illusion. Just as it was with Mystic Anali and Fa’ Vel, the dark magic will consume you.” Brok squeezed Jon's shoulder. “Remember the story of Anali and Lucian. We need you, Jon. We can't afford to lose you to the grip of the dark power.”

Jon met Brok's eyes and he swallowed hard. “I'm sorry. I acted without thinking.”

“It's alright, boy. The situation was quite precarious. But you have strong power within you. You don't need the dark magic.”

Jon followed Brok as he made his way back to the group, his brows drawn in anger.
I can handle the dark power.

“We will stay here for the night. Saemus, you and Jon go get some firewood. I will see about getting something to eat,” Brok said, weary from the fight between Gwen and Feeror. He grabbed his pack from against the wall where he had left it before the trip to Gentra with his Chosen.
It all seems so long ago. I wonder how long we have been gone.
He knew, as did the other Guardians, that time did not pass at the same rate on each planet. While a few weeks may have passed on Gentra, months, even years might have passed on Astra.

“Will you hunt?” Kyron's grey eyes lit up. “I would very much like to accompany you.”

“I go to hunt, but not with weapons that you are familiar with, or could even use.” Brok gave the large man a sidelong glance. “Besides, a naked man hunting would raise more than a few eyebrows.”

“There isn't a weapon that I cannot master, old man,” Kyron said, his temper flaring.

Brok simply raised a hand, and the man stopped in his tracks, eying Brok's out-stretched arm as though it was a fearsome beast. “Have you forgotten the lesson the little one demonstrated to your comrade already? The Chosen of Astra have no need of hand-held weapons. I can find food more quickly if I go alone and do not have to worry about who might see you wandering about in naught but your skin.” With that, he exited the cave.

The evening air was pleasantly cool. He took a deep breath and gazed for a moment at the twin moons of Astra, now devoid of their ghostly rings.
I have missed this place.
He felt shocked and a little guilty at that thought, but he could not hide from the truth of the feelings rising in his breast. He
had
missed this planet.

Although he had told Kyron he feared an encounter, the chance of that was slim. The Stroh Hills were fairly remote. In truth, he had wanted some time alone. Gwen's wrath had shaken him. He knew the girl wielded great power, but he had never seen her use it to harm another. The idea of being able to take another life without ever having to lay a hand on one's victim, or even having to look them in the eye, seemed somehow cowardly.
The Volgon warriors would certainly think it cowardly.
Brok wondered what life was like on Volgon, to drive the creatures there to kill those that were in less than perfect physical health.
I must talk further with Gerok. I must know more about the Volgon Chosen.

His musings were cut short as he sighted some fresh antlered horse tracks. Brok sent his magic outward, seeking his target. It was about two miles to the northwest and moving slowly, grazing on the grasses of the plains. Brok crept forward, moving silently through the waist-tall grass. He stuck out his hand and let it brush the purple tufts. A gentle breeze rippled across the rolling hills, making the
prairie look like a great green and purple ocean. Brok used his magic as well as his eyes to traverse the rough patches of dirt, rocks, depressions in the soil, anything that might cause him to lose his footing and perhaps fall.
These old bones are too brittle to withstand a bad tumble.

His quarry moved in his direction. Brok stopped where he was, thankful that he was upwind. He gathered his power and used a tiny portion to reach out and touch the antlered horse. He could feel the heat of the animal's large body, the rough texture of the long hair that covered it from head to toe, the weight of the enormous rack that adorned his massive head, and finally the beating of its heart. Brok said a silent prayer to the good spirits as he unleashed the full force of his power into the animal's heart, stopping it in an instant. The antlered horse gave a low bellow and fell to the ground, legs thrashing in its death throes.

Brok approached carefully. A wayward kick or a toss of the animal's head could kill him. He used his knife to slit the animal's throat. After field dressing the beast, Brok cut the animal into quarters. He fashioned a travois using branches from trees and smaller branches for the platform. He worked quickly and efficiently by the light if the twin moons.

“Navi in aer.”
He used his power to float the large quarters of meat onto the travois, easing them into place so that they would not topple over. He furrowed his brow as he contemplated dragging the meat back to the portal cave. The grumbling of his stomach made the decision for him. He used his power to lighten the load such that it felt as if he carried nothing more than his knapsack.

Brok made good time back to the others and found a cheerful fire burning. The tension in the cave was a palpable thing. The Astran and Volgon Chosen sat as far from each other as they could and still remain in the cave. Gerok sat between them, looking miserable and frustrated.

They all stood as Brok entered the cave, glad to have a distraction from their strained silence. The Volgons watched Brok unload the antlered horse with greedy eyes. The Astrans pushed up their sleeves and began skinning the animal. The Volgons, reluctant and yet curious, asked the Astrans if they could lend a hand. Saemus
showed them how to use the small knives to cut the skin from the meat. Soon, the Volgons and Astrans were chatting about the different kinds of animals that lived on their respective planets, which were the most dangerous, how large they were, what environments they inhabited. The Volgons were eager to try their hands at hunting some of Astra's more dangerous animals, like shadowcats and prairie cats.

“We will not have time during this trip to hunt for sport. Perhaps when the fighting is done, you can return and test your skill against the shadowcats.” Brok had a long stick and pushed the burning wood toward the periphery of the stone ring that enclosed the fire. Soon, the stones had absorbed the intense heat from the burning wood. Brok reached into his knapsack and took out several pouches. He took a pinch here, a leaf there and crushed them together, sprinkling it onto the meat.

“I found some wild onions and a bit of garlic as well,” Gwen said softly. She kept her eyes to the ground.

Brok found himself getting angry. He took her chin and forced her to look up. “You will
never
do this again, do you hear me? You are not less than anyone in this cave, nor less than anyone on this planet, nor less than anyone in this galaxy. You will cease this scuttling about like some lowly creature, afraid to look anyone in the eyes! I won't stand for it! You are Gwen Heath, one of the Chosen. You are
someone
, someone special and strong and
necessary
.”

Gwen was taken aback by Master Brok's ferocity. His anger upset her. She opened her mouth to retort but then shut it and waddled off, mumbling to herself. She sat down in a huff next to Keera, still fuming.