The Rising Sun: Episode 6 (19 page)

He kept himself pressed to the ground, almost
trembling. The fire serpents swirled and coiled menacingly all
around him, some of them missing him by mere feet as they passed
dangerously close to the ground. But Ion made no effort to move, or
to save himself … He knew it was all futile. He was going to die in
here, alone and helpless … And it was about the worst type of death
he could have asked for.

He shut his eyes, keeping his body pressed to
the ground. Waiting for one of the flaming serpents to swoop down
anytime now and claim him … He knew the moment wouldn’t be too far
at all…

“Ion!”

Ion jolted upright, his eyes snapping open.
Mantra stood at the entrance to this chamber, his robe fluttering
in the winds cast by the swirling fires all over.

“Get up, kid.” he ordered, holding an arm
out. “Or my returning here to get you out of here alive, would go
wasted.”

He noticed Mantra standing in a slightly
hunched posture, one hand over his stomach, and the other held out
towards Ion. There was a trace of suppressed agony in his eyes as
he stood there. Ion held his hand out, grasping the master’s.

Mantra’s hand trembled as he heaved Ion up.
And as he rose, the two of them locked eyes, and the very instant,
Ion saw it.

No!

Horror flooded Ion as his eyes fell on the
charred, crisped portion of Mantra’s robe. There was a large
glowing slash across the master’s torso, surrounded by his burnt
robe: one of the fire serpents had struck him, apparently, while he
had come back to rescue Ion. It had gashed a large cut through his
stomach. A part of Mantra’s insides were now fried.

Ion rose his eyes back to the master’s
wizened features, which bode no sorrow or fear. Just the same,
unblemished calm as ever: he was obviously fighting the agony of
the wound as he kept it clutched with his other hand … But Ion
could tell that it was costing him too much. He wouldn’t last
long…

His mind thundering with alarm, he made to
move forward to help. But Mantra gave a sharp wave of his free
hand, his face wincing slightly in pain. “Don’t worry about that.
I’ll live long enough to get you out. Now, follow me!”

Without a word, Mantra turned and sprinted
down the cave, and Ion hurried on along with him. He kept pace with
the elderly master as they dashed senselessly across the cave.

As though predicting the fire serpents’
motions, Mantra held his hand out a couple of times, stopping a few
of the flaming ribbons before they hit him or Ion behind him. His
features were contorted in focus and agony throughout, one hand
clutching the gash across his stomach. He seemed to be propelling
all hia energy into each step, and the agony of his wound could be
seen in his face as he ran on…

Ion fought back the hopelessness and shock,
keeping the meanest flicker of hope alive that the master wasn’t
doomed. That the two of them would reach the exit of the cave, and
would be able to heal him. But even as the thought crossed him, a
part of his hopes died: he knew that the wound Mantra had fallen
prey to was not within the scale of healing that the three students
knew. It was too grave. They would not be able to heal him with
their powers…

The thought ran through Ion like an icy
shard, dragging his spirits down with it. But he quickly thrust it
aside, knowing that he could not falter at this moment: the raging
fires spun about like loosened tongues of fire, lashing the place
with all their energy. Mantra and Ion were in the middle of a
senseless sprint across the cave, both of their eyes kept peeled
for the fire serpents swirling all over the place. They ducked,
dodged and shot their way across the place. Mantra kept his hand
over the wound the whole time, and Ion could feel the pain of the
wound draw its effect over him … closing in on his energy like a
vast shadow. The resolve in his deep white eyes seemed to flicker
as he sprinted on, and his speed was ebbing.

“Master, come on!” Ion stopped to call, his
heart now hammering within his ribs. “Don’t stop now!”

But Mantra gave a slight shudder, and fell to
a complete stop. He swayed once, and then toppled to the right.

No!
Without the meanest care for life
or death, Ion turned, changing course, and dashed towards where the
old man lay, stirring feeble amidst the swirling flames.
No!No!No!

Ion threw himself to the ground, pulling
Mantra’s limp body along. Then, without wasting the breadth of a
moment, he heaved Mantra up and shot the remaining distance between
there and the cave’s entrance.

He could feel Mantra’s weight drag him
slower, and the fury of the fires all over him seemed to have
bounded now: the fiery tongues seemed to dance about with a renewed
fervour, as though acting with a mind to strike down the lone
survivor. But Ion kept his teeth gritted firmly and sprinted
through the place.

Through the entrance approaching far ahead,
Ion could see Vestra and Qyro waiting nervously. They stood at a
distance from the cave’s entrance and the hysteria raging inside of
it.

The thudding of his own footsteps seemed to
absorb everything in Ion’s attention as he ran with Mantra’s body
over his shoulder.

Then, like a fiery snake striking out of the
blue, one of the flaming ribbons coursed in from above … heading
towards them from the left. Ion saw it and, not a moment too late,
dodged out of the way. But as he swayed to the right, he felt
another rush of burning air reach him from the left. Without even
thinking, he broke his flow of motion and jumped to the opposite
side, just missing the flaming tongue on his left by a deadly
whisker.

Without waiting for a breath, he turned back
and shot down the cave. The distance remaining closed rapidly,
falling to less than ten metres.

Before he knew what or how, he had carried
Mantra’s limp body and had flown straight out of the cave’s
entrance. As fast as a bullet. Qyro and Vestra watched him pelt
out, and the same shock stretched across their faces as they
watched him carrying Mantra’s lifeless form. As Ion sped to a stop,
he tripped, hitting the ground in a whirl of sand and dirt.
Mantra’s body slipped and hit the soil by his side.

Ion sat back up slowly, Vestra and Qyro
rushing to where Mantra lay beside him. They tore the front of his
robes off and there, a bright orange slash lay across his torso:
the fire serpent had cut right through it, like an ignited
sword.

Ion’s heart plummeted horribly.

“No,” he whispered, getting to his feet. Qyro
caught him from behind as he staggered. Vestra lay crouched over
her master, trying to find a pulse as she kept a finger over his
neck.

She then turned to the two of them, her mouth
wide open. “He isn’t dead!”

“What!” gasped Qyro and Ion together. Vestra
shook her head, the tears in her eyes draining.

As if on cue, Mantra’s white eyes popped
open, and he slowly levelled his gaze with the three of them. He
clutched the orange gash across his torso where the fire serpent
had passed, his face contorting.

“It’s all right, master!” squealed Vestra,
pressing the wound with the torn front of his robes.

“Healer -” croaked Mantra, his eyes drooping
again…

“We’ve gotta get him to a healer!” exclaimed
Qyro, his voice urgent as Ion had ever heard it. “We can still save
him!”

Ion stared at the gaping orange slash across
Mantra’s torso, and he had to struggle to force down the wave of
hopelessness.

“Well, let’s go, then!” he called to the
other two.

Mantra’s eyelids flickered as unconsciousness
swooped over him again … He uttered a dry chuckle, and his white
eyes fell to focus on the stars spreading on the night sky
above.

“And so it starts,” he whispered, his voice
strong despite the injury. “All over again.”

And then his head lolled to the side, his
eyes slacking shut.

Ion, Vestra and Qyro exchanged a fleeting,
terrified glance. Qyro bent down, scooped the master up and slung
him over his shoulder, and without a breath wasted, the three of
them dashed off down the land to where they had parked their
ship.

__________

Endless darkness…

Toneless silence…

Stillness. Serenity. Calm unmatched by
anything else…

An elevated existence, transcending beyond
all borders of being. Independant of all.

Unbound by space. Undefined by reason.
Unanchored by purpose.

Unheld by control.

Eternities passed … spanning within the gap
of one moment.

The moment that defined it all.

The silence drew on … the darkness waded
on.

The stillness persisted…

And then, piercing the silence, it came…

Like a ray of light…

It started as a fickle movement.

And it then gathered pace, slowly forming out
of the nothingness.

And a new gravity came through the non being
… a new direction.

A new glow…

The sensation expanded slowly … sucking
everything into it.

And then there was light…

There was knowledge…

There was reason…

There was purpose…

And it brought everything together,
solidifying out of the non being. And bringing a new being…

And the spaceless void rumbled as an ancient,
deadly force awoke within it.

A force more terrible than anything dreamt of
… a violent darkness with no bounds, no borders.

The world was suddenly swept by a bright new
joy…

A joy unlike anything seen before…

For something had been found out of
nothing.

A power unlike anything seen before. A
gravely terrible power.

This is not the end.
Zardin thought
gleefully, possessed with a new fire as he hovered in this endless
abyss.
This is just the beginning.

THE END

Clocks

BOOK TWO