Chapter Seventeen

The time that passed could have been decades. Kekasmai could have died, crossed over to the afterlife, and had her soul reborn as something new. Most unfortunately, that was not the case. Kekasmai was wide awake now, every nerve in her body screaming in agony as harsh, terrible weaponry violated her, but she remained silent. She would not let Sorena know how effective her torture was.

The minutes blurred and trickled into one another, meshing into a schism of terror and abstractness. She could taste the perspiration, hear the ferocious blades cut her skin, feel the cusses of Manumos and herself alike, see the blood pumping in her eardrums, smell the greedy bloodlust that seeped from her torturers like blood, clotting the waters. All of her senses were reversed and distorted, until they all registered only one thing: pain. All five senses shouted the same message at her – Pain! Pain! Pain! – and she could not shake it from herself. She was no longer Kekasmai Aner; that strange, Miringa girl seemed to be distances away. Her mind was so occupied with thoughts of her torturers and how terribly they were inflicting that Kekasmai no longer was part of her being.

For six hours, she existed in this inhumane form. It would have been an incredible experience if she had not been forced to endure such hurt. When she revived herself, when she returned to her corporeal form, pain was still greatly prevalent. The water had a bloody tinge to it; not one molecule was free of redness.

Her torturers were strangers: she had never seen these Manumos before. But why did that matter? Pain was ravaging her legs. She lifted up her head, which felt horrifically heavy, and looked at them with unfocused, blurry eyes. They were grotesquely twisted. She tried to move them; they would not respond. Both of her legs were broken.

Her two Manumo torturers threw her off of the cold, metal bed, which was spattered with blood. They roughly handled her, without much concern for the doleful girl. They dutifully jerked her back to the large, prisoners’ chamber, purposely hitting her shattered legs into doorjambs and the like. Kekasmai was so full of despair and wounds that she didn’t even pay attention to where she was being led. The babble in the Manumo language that seeped from her torturers wafted into the water and spread away. Kekasmai didn’t even try to listen until they were about to rechain her and she realized they were speaking to her, in a language she understood:

“Pity Lady Sorena had not given us order to have you give children,” commented one snidely, his accent very thick and his grammar not very good. “If Lady Lana give order, though, I’d be glad to…” He chuckled. “Even if she no give order, I would, anyways…”

The implication, the tone in his voice, sparked such a horrific and terrific fear, which immediately morphed itself into rage. Her pain all but forgotten, she drew back a shaking fist and slammed it squarely into the speaking Manumo’s jaw. He released a howl of pain.

“Vetchli!” he screeched. “Bostat!” From the way he screamed the second word, Kekasmai knew it was not a very kind one. She punched him again.

“Kekasmai!” shouted Andras’ weak voice, sounding miles away. “Don’t!”

“Kig kamananin jootz bostat!” growled the Manumo that Kekasmai had not attacked. From his waist he drew a long knife and held it aloft, but Kekasmai had already put her next move into motion. Using all the strength she could summon, she called upon her powers and magically broke Andras’ chains. Her brother fell to the ground but immediately righted himself, his hair swinging into his eyes.

“You’re going to get killed!” he yelled, sounding angry. “I don’t want you to!”

“I won’t!” returned Kekasmai as she punched the bladed Manumo right on the nose, who hadn’t been able to react due to surprise. “We’re going to get out of here, Andras!”

As she spoke these words, the door banged open and six more Manumos flooded into the room. Andras let out a groan of despair, but Kekasmai gave him a light punch on the shoulder.

“We either die here, fighting for those we love, or we die later, executed and humiliated!” she shouted. “Me, I’d rather die tall and proud!” Andras turned to look at her, a slow grin unfurling, while at the same time tears blurred his eyes. Behind them, sounding like a dim recording, came the whispers and encouraging calls of the other captured Miringa.

“You’re a lot like Sizighos, you know?” he whispered as the six foes darted forward and the two Kekasmai had attacked lay on the ground, looking befuddled.

“He was my favorite,” teased Kekasmai, scooping down to take the knife from the Manumo. She turned to the onslaught of Manumos and, using her wings, propelled herself through the waters, getting lucky and slitting the throat of the first Manumo she encountered.

‘She’s just like him, alright,’ thought Andras, leaping into the fray and relieving the dead Manumo of his sword. ‘No…she’s different. I loved my brother, but he definitely rathered his life to be extended, even if only by a few hours, then to die immediately after he assaulted Sorena.’

It was five to two: Andras knew it was hopeless. He hurriedly make his way next to Kekasmai and shouted above the melee, “Look, Kekasmai, you have to go!”

She stared at him, angry and shocked. “No! I’ll fight with you till they’re all done!”

Andras shook his head, deflecting the scimitar of a Manumo. “No, you can’t. Look, we’re overwhelmed, and I’m sure the noise has attracted others. You escape; I’ll catch up if I can!”

“You’ll die!” screamed Kekasmai.

“It’s either both of us or just me,” pointed out Andras rationally. “I won’t blame you, and I won’t be angry. This is my decision; you did not abandon me.”

“But – ”

“Go!” shouted Andras angrily, gesturing towards the open door. “Escape! Now!”

Kekasmai stared at her brother, tears dripping down her face. There was a very brief moment when no Manumo was brave enough to attack; Andras hugged his sister.

“Tell Mother and Father I love them!” he called as he leapt from the thrust of a Manumo. “And tell Kianos I say goodbye.”

“But…” Kekasmai desperately wanted to stay, to tell so much to her older brother, but speech failed her. It was impossible to express to him how much he meant to her.

“Just go now!” shouted Andras.

“I – ”

“I know,” he said gently, looking at her with a wise expression on his face. “I know. Now, go!”

Kekasmai began flapping her wings clumsily, shooting through the open door, choked with tears. She sped up the hallway and burst into the grand room with the chandeliers. She saw a large, rectangular mirror and swam towards it; she gathered an incredible amount of speed and shattered the glass as she went through. As Kekasmai used her wings to fly towards the surface, she could hear the paroxysms of her brother versus the Manumos. If she had lingered just a moment longer, she could have stayed in earshot long enough to hear Andras’ bloodcurdling screams of death.

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Thus ends The Rise. This novel took longer to complete than expected, and I think the next two books will be a lot shorter, just because. Ah, in case one was wondering...bostat does indeed mean what one would call a girl who just punched you. And vetchli is both an adjective and a noun: in adjectival form, it's "stupid"; as a noun, it means "fool". Yes, I actually DO have the Manumo language written down, with grammar and vocabulary and so on...I swear I'm cool!!!

Well, that's all for now. The next book - The Fall - should come out Sunday or Monday.

Thanks,
E.B. Keane-Farrell