Through the Eyes of the Dead 2 (standard:fantasy, 3618 words) [2/3] show all parts
Author: kissofthehungry	Added: Jun 26 2004	Views/Reads: 2652/2062	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
King Brenton commands Cavara to use her powers on her home village, but upon encountering the slaughter of her people, she realizes that King Brenton's intentions are not as pure as he claims. Escaping, she comes into the aid of Klien, a Time Watcher.

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the beginning, and he really planned on expanding his kingdom to those 
who lay outside the bounds of Units? 

As these thoughts all hit her at once, the Marker of White Castle Unit
rode up beside her and touched her arm lightly, 'Are you okay, my 
dear?' His eyes were so full of concern that she broke down into tears. 
Wordlessly, she sobbed as she thought of what she had done, of what she 
was to do. The idea that it wasn't for the best of intentions now clung 
stubbornly to her mind, and made her feel even worse. The Marker rubbed 
her back consolingly, keeping pace with the slow plodding of her horse. 


'Let it out while he's ahead of us, if he sees your tears, he will not
let you live it down,' the Marker whispered and she knew his words were 
true. King Brendan was not one to let signs of weakness go unmarked. 

'He's taking us to my Unit next,' she gasped, 'I don't know if I can do
it there, they're my people. How were you able to handle it?' Then she 
thought of his downcast eyes, the grief marked so visibly in his age 
lined face. He hadn't been able to handle it, but he had hidden the 
fact, for he had drawn King Brenton's eye upon his Unit as she had 
hers. They had to face up to what had to be done and continue onward, 
even if it were their people. 

Then the Marker wiped away her tears, 'Be silent, still your grief, for
he rides back and you do not want to catch his eye at this point.' 
Quickly, she swallowed anymore sobs that would have escaped her, and at 
that moment, King Brenton rode by, making sure that all were still with 
him. His short stature and slick black hair made her despise him all of 
a sudden. What right did he have to break people? So what if they did 
not want to be under his power, so they could cut them off until they 
eventually had to come around to his ways. He didn't have to destroy 
their wills and spirit. 

Of course, he wasn't the one who was breaking people, she was, and she
realized that as to came into view of her home unit. The tall trees 
with lumber as hard as steel and as black as coal cast their shadow 
upon the land. They were massive, imposing beasts with a diameter that 
could only have been held by the grip of nine men. Nestled in the heart 
of the woods was her Unit, living high in a fortress built among the 
branches of the great trees. Her ears caught the exclamations of the 
men who had never seen such trees as those, and pride surged through 
her body. Nowhere else were there such trees for they only grew in 
Blackwood Forest, tended to by the magic of the elders. 

The guards of the stairwell had already opened the door to allow passage
to King Brenton and his ilk. As they began the trek, she noted with 
surprise that one of the guards was the son of her neighbor, a boy 
seven years younger than she. When she smiled at him, his face remained 
stone and his eyes colder than ice. No welcome availed her in her own 
home Unit. 

When they broke out of the stairwell and into the Unit itself, an
unwelcome surprise awaited them. The townspeople, armed with weapons of 
all sorts, blocked any further advancement. To her, this was an amazing 
sight, so many people together for one cause, never before had 
Blackwood Unit experienced such an epiphany. They despised one another 
and had no desire to communicate but here they were, united. Another 
surge of pride pounded through her even as disgust prevailed upon King 
Brenton's face. 

'Get out of my way, you are of no consequence to me,' he spat, but they
only clumped tighter at his words. Then he turned his face to Cavara 
and his eyes spoke a thousand thoughts, all of which horrified her and 
she cringed from allowing into her mind. She could not go against her 
own Unit, she couldn't, but in her heart, she knew that she would. 

With a stubborn wail, one man launched from the crowd with his blade
drawn, throwing himself at King Brenton. The mob surged forward and she 
got her cue from Kind Brenton. Without thinking about it, she touched 
one of the attackers, her mind already in the Underworld, sending 
insanity into his mind and heart. Barely clinging to him long enough to 
install madness, she reached for her next victim. Men and women 
screamed around her as her touch and the blades of her companions cut 
them down. Without warning, her mother was at her side, a cruel knife 
with serrated edges, in her hand. The look of absolute malice and 
hatred born on her face made Cavara recoil in shock. Her mother jabbed 
at her and the knife slit through her cloak, and cut against her 
stomach. The pain of the wound woke her to her power, and with pained 
regret, she saved herself by entering the Underworld. Her hand rested 
upon her mother's forehead and she held it until her mother's struggles 
stopped. She would not curse her mother with madness, only death could 
be welcomed. 

When the battle ended, much of Blackwood Unit lay slaughtered about her,
their blood soaking the fortress grounds. Those who were not dead were 
garbling mindless chatter, their eyes locked away in a different world, 
fallen to her touch. A few had escaped unharmed and had fled the Unit, 
taking tales of King Brenton and his horrors to other Units. However, 
for the most part, Blackwood Unit, lay in blood and defeat. Cavara 
looked around, her heart broken by the vision, her people lay dead or 
insane, all in the name of unity. King Brenton urged his horse on, 
ignoring the way it stepped over carcasses or the way bones snapped 
loudly in the silence beneath it's feet. His posse followed slowly 
after him, everyone sobered by the gore that they had all caused. 
Everyone touched by the defiant nature of the people they had killed, 
all except for Brenton, who didn't seem to be touched at all. 

She knew where they were going, to the heart of the Unit, where they
would stay the night in the lap of luxury. Luxury that would decay into 
nothing as there would be nobody to care for it once they left. 
Blackwood Unit was destroyed and no more, a mere skeleton of it's 
might. Why'd her people have to fight? Hadn't they known it would be 
easier and nonfatal by giving into his wishes? Once more the doubt 
snuck in, how could this be for the better good of everyone? Breaking 
people was one thing, murdering in cold blood was another. 

That night, she came to the conclusion that she was leaving King
Brenton's company, that she could no longer hold loyalties to such a 
man. So, leaving her chambers, she rose to go tell him so, but instead 
found him and the Advisor talking quietly in the hall. Without 
announcing her presence, she slid behind a wall and listened. 

'With the aid of the Eyes of the Dead, you will not be defeated. Her
powers are priceless and far to valuable to chance loosing. I think 
that the battle today may have great effects upon her and you need to 
assure her of your good intentions,' the Advisor whispered, his 
encouragement more of an order than a suggestion. 

'How am I to assure her of good intentions that are not?' Brenton
snickered, 'The land will be mine, I will have complete control. These 
thoughts have probably registered already, and once that seed of doubt 
is planted, it is near impossible to silence it. The only chance I have 
is by brute force and I fear to be within her touching range.' 

“Very true,” the Advisor agreed then put a finger to Brenton's lips,
“Somebody else stands upon this conversation than us.” With those 
words, she spun away and ran to her room, where she shut the door and 
slid the heavy lock into place. That was it, she could no longer stay 
in their company and she didn't think she could tell him so either. In 
the dead of the night, she would have to slip out and flee. For a 
moment, she thought of telling the White Castle Marker, but she knew 
where his loyalties were, for he had still stayed at Brenton's side, 
even after seeing one of his leaders fallen. She was on her own. 

Waiting a good hour and hearing no sound of approaching feet, she
chanced a look out. There was no one in the hall, and with that, she 
slipped out of her room. Quietly, she raced to her horse's side and as 
quick as she could, put the saddle on. Praying no one would heard the 
sound of horse hoofs, she rode her horse out of Blackwood Unit. The 
guards who had been at the stairwell were gone, having fled at the 
instruction of the survivors, and for this she was thankful. It would 
have been near impossible to get them to open the door otherwise, but 
in their escape, they'd left it wide open to further attack. 

All night, she rode, ignoring the stiffness that had grown in all of her
muscles, by morning, she reached Deep Pool Unit. She leapt off her 
horse and ran in, ready to plead for sanctuary. But no one would give 
her a chance. The people she encountered in the stony ruins of ancient 
times recoiled and fled from her. Person after person rejected her open 
hands pleas and ran wordlessly into the mist slowly rising to the sky. 
She didn't understand why they wouldn't even talk to her. So, she 
climbed to the top of one of the pillars that provided backbone to a 
fruit stand. At least up there, she would be able to keep her eye open 
for Brenton's approach. However, once up at the top, she realized there 
were other people, same age as she, perched precariously about. They 
gazed at her with mild wonder and more indifference. 

Nearest to her, on a pillar wide enough to support three people laying
down, rested a young man a year or two older than her. His light dusty 
blonde hair stood at end about three inches off his head, as if 
lightening had struck the air near him and done his do' for him. His 
face was tan with days spend in the sun and his light gray eyes 
regarded her with more curiosity than the others. So, she figured he 
was more approachable and began the tedious stepping on top of old 
pillars to get to him. 

“What are you doing up here?” he questioned, his voice held more
maturity than she expected at his age. His question caught her off 
guard even though she should have expected it since this wasn't exactly 
the natural place for a Marker to be. 

“I could ask the same of you,” she replied and sat next to him without
an invitation. Somehow, she knew he wouldn't care and in fact, she 
trusted him more than anybody else she had so far encountered. Maybe it 
was the wild hair or the way his gray eyes held no secrets. 

“I'm a Time Watcher, I sit here at my post and watch for any strange
occurrences. Why are you not on the ground, trying to gain loyalties 
with the people?” the way he asked made her defenses rise. It wasn't 
that he was rude, but it was the way he quoted it, as if she'd came on 
the behalf of King Brenton to try to sway the people's thinking. She 
didn't like the implication at all and wanted to smack it out of him, 
which wasn't exactly fair since he knew nothing of King Brenton. 

“I'm not here to gain the loyalties of the people, I'm seeking
sanctuary. Anyway, I'm up here cause they won't talk to me down there. 
Do you know why that is?” she had an idea it was because they did not 
support King Brenton and assumed she would try to convert them. Not 
that she would but that was probably the general suspicion of any 
Marker that would happen to come through. The boy looked away from her 
and at a cloud of dust on the horizon. A qualm of fear entered her as 
she knew what that cloud of dust was. King Brenton was looking for her, 
and he was on his way here, probably following her footsteps. 

Then he looked back at her and smiled, making her heart suddenly skip a
couple of beats, “Why silly Marker, we've heard tales of the young one 
who kills with her touch and drives others to madness. They fear what 
you represent, but even more they fear the touch of that Marker.” Panic 
made her stand up, what was she going to do now? She had to escape 
before King Brenton arrived and made her bend to his will with brute 
force or worse. Yet how could she even think of escaping when he would 
recognize her fleeing form in the purple cloak or white dress? 

“Oh god, I'm doomed,” she groaned, “He'll catch me again and make me
complete his will.” The boy looked at her with fresh curiosity and the 
realization who she was dawned on him. She could see it in his eyes, 
and yet there was no fear. 

Without saying anything to her, he yelled across to another pillar,
“Avoney, this here is that Marker we have heard tales of. She's trying 
to escape King Brenton, want to trade her clothes?” The girl who looked 
to actually be younger than her, nodded with a flash of excitement in 
her face. She tore off the black robe that clung to her figure, with 
the boy watching her indifferently. She tossed it over to him and he 
turned to Cavara, his face read clearly that it was her choice, but her 
only chance. Silently, she pulled off her cloak, and removed her dress. 
Unlike with Avoney, his eyes sparked over her body, drinking her in and 
she felt the prudish desire to cover herself up. Then the strange hope 
that he liked what he saw flashed across her mind. Then he handed her 
the robe and she changed briskly while he threw her clothes to the 
other nude girl. 

“I'll help you escape, as soon as you tell me your name,” he smiled
again and she felt color rise to her cheeks. What was she doing, being 
flattered by a man she would never again meet? With any luck, she would 
get away from here before her presence brought any harm down upon them, 
but she couldn't help herself, she'd never been met someone so 
enticing. 

“I'm Cavara, can I beg of your name?” her cheeks burned with the fire of
interest as he replied, “I'm Klein, promised to your aid.” He kissed 
her hand to his lips, and then urged her down the pillar. Without 
further adieu, she did so and he followed, waving farewell to his 
fellow Time Watchers. No one ran from her now, they just walked around, 
carrying about their business as usual. That is until one of the Time 
Watchers cried from above, “King Brenton approaching.” There were 
suddenly cries of horror and she watched as people fled to pillars, 
rapped on them with their knuckles, and disappeared into doors that 
were there and then gone. Klein grabbed her hand and led her to a 
couple of horses. He helped her on then mounted the other one. 

“Klein, if you come with me, it will be dangerous. He will not rest
until he has found me,” she whispered, the announcement compounding the 
truth. Klein grinned and spurned his horse on, grabbing her reins and 
pulling her horse after him. Awe rose in her, this boy was willing to 
lay his life on the line for her, and he'd only known her for a little 
while. As she heard King Brenton enter Deep Pool Unit, they exited out 
the back way and darted across the plains. For the moment, she was out 
of his reach. 


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