The King Trials 2: Beyond.

The following days speed by with breakneck speeds but still slow and punishing in its excruciating arduousness. It takes many days, much transference of modes of transport, barge, boat, and airship. Even now we have finally arrived on Urium soil, beyond the border. Yet, the true journey is still to begin.

What makes the voyage back to our homelands more painful is the additional physical exertion, a strain that my body refuses to endure, identical symptoms I faced before we encountered the Are, before I met Zoar. I question if I will ever see him again. If I will ever return to the Sagetai Sanctuary, it does not feel like something I should do. But something that I must.

We have just left Ben-Nun, our entire convoy is travelling on horseback through the Fanghills. The valley of desiccated hills, a land of thorn and thistles, its grass withered, deprived of water, depleted of any nutrients. We all amble through the bone-dry ravine sprinkled with bare bushes with skeletal limbs. Nothing green or blooming for miles ahead, it is as vast as the sunless sky, louring with a shroud of foreboding storm clouds, promising rain.

Primus Kelan brings the convoy to a standstill. A brief recess. Everyone eagerly dismounts, even the horses plop down on the ground, slanted towards one side. I collapse and rest my whole backside against the flank of my thoroughbred, closing my eyes.

Frequent whining of the horses skims past my ears, light conversations wafting around, the cool air, moist and dank, loaded with the sweet smell of rain yet to fall. My head is wrapped with the black scarf that only conceals my hair. I lift my hand to clutch onto the gemstone.

Oh, how I ache for his presence, not a moment goes by when my mind doesn’t torment me with a vision of his smile. The anguish my chest bears, burdened by the heft of my heart, forced to carry its dead weight every day and every night.

I must learn about the Sagetai’s power. If I cannot get rid of it, I must learn to control it so that there will never be another to suffer Solaris’s fate, not by my hand. Vince’s proverb comes to mind like the wandering wind: Our dead are never dead to us, until we have forgotten them. And I remember, I always have because I know who Solaris was to me; hushing the lies, the guilt, and manipulation.

I remember. I know.

He was a good soul, a better friend, and would have made an even greater king.

Alas, he will then rule above.

I wonder wherever he is. Can he see me? There are so many things I wished I could have told him, but death tore us asunder. But not forever, I will see him again, but for now, there are things I must do, promises that must be upheld. Before Solaris breathed his last, he instructed me; he told me what he believed in even when the cords of the grave had wrung his neck. He still believed.

He believed in me.

I peel my eyes open, white light washes over me before it gives way to my sight. Beneath its considerable shadow, my eyes drift up the torso of a hill right in front of me until the peak. A tree stands at the apex, stripped of life, it’s gnarly arms brittle and wilting in its perpetual dolour.

I push myself up to my feet, rubbing my bandaged hand. I inhale a deep breath and start the climb, shifting my weight heavily with each stomp directed up. It doesn’t take long until the steepish incline plateaus into a short, table-top peak.

I peer over my shoulder at the resting convoy, their distant frames like lanky figures. Scant of breath, I pause to survey the scenery from a bird’s-eye view. The hills tumble on for as far as my sight will permit, everything dry and dismal. At the brink of my eyesight, a chain of dusty-brown mountains fringes the rim of the terrain, a collection of fowls flies on the noontide thermals, flapping their wings calmly, gliding through the air with enviable serenity.

Something I need to find. Peace.

Aurora, be still and listen.

After I hear those words reverberate in my mind, chaos and death ensued. But this time I am filled with a strange sense of tranquillity, a need to comply with such a simple action.

I saunter to the tree. Once I reach it, I turn around, seating myself at its feet.

Be still.

I draw in a long breath. I close my eyes again.

And listen.

I let go—it feels like I have sunken beneath the ocean’s surface, submerged in a feeling, a sensation that I have never encountered before, it surpasses anything potent that I have felt in my life between yawning grief to indescribable rage. No, this is different, it’s not calm, it’s something more, a peace that transcends my understanding.

"Aurora.”

This time the voice is the same omnipresence echo but where it comes from is different. Not in my mind, but right beside me. I dare myself to look. My eyes open slowly. My body feels like its floating on the calm of the seas, but my mind is still submerged, held but somehow free.

For a moment I am blinded by incandescent white light, pulsating as if it is alive, a living, breathing force. It retreats like a receding tide, revealing an illusion of grandeur. Everything I have seen before has transformed.

The once dry and parched lands are quenched with luminous greenery. Lapping hills, rolling into a gradation of verdant beauty, the skies have miraculously cleared into a lurid blue like burning sapphires, brightening every virescent hue of the green hills, the land bountiful with multi-coloured blossoms that bloomed from nowhere.

This cannot be real.

I rise, walking cautiously to teeter on the edge and look over at the vacant underside. The entire ravine is empty, the convoy—everyone and everything is gone.

No sound is heard, no being in sight. All is still and silent.

I straighten and look ahead. It’s like I’m in a dream state, a lucid vision, but it cannot be because I am fully aware, fully conscious. But in the same breath, it cannot be real. Everything has a faint but seeable shimmer about it, a holistic glow like a mirage.

Panic awakens within. I whip around, drawing closer. The once gnarly tree has blossomed into something beautiful, its branches thickened into vitality with sturdy wood; a rich sepia brown, its brawny arms adorned with luxuriant foliage. But there is something special about this tree, even though it didn’t appear like this before, it’s not aglow with a whimsical illumination.

Somehow, it feels real.

I take a step back. “What is all this....”

Then I notice a flash of light throb right beside the tree, like something had materialised.

I slant my head to the side to glimpse a pure white light, pulsing like a heartbeat. Tentatively, I creep forward, my breaths shallow as I advance with both caution and curiosity. I edge closer to the tree, flattening my front against the profuse trunk, my hands pressing against it, feeling the flaky and uneven nature of the bark.

I peak around it, and I see a tall, masculine figure stand at the very cusp of the hill, graced in a gleaming white robe, the ends pool around him like virgin waters.

“Come,” he invites, the tenor warm and gentle, but there is something powerful in his voice, his words do not carry the same, it rebounds, coming from different directions all at once as if he is everywhere.

I comply, moving away from the tree to take a few wary steps forward.

I do not how. But this being has brought me here, in some kind of alternate reality to the one that it is true, or possibly just a vision. I lack the knowledge to even theorise; my mind cannot wrap around the enormity.

I summon my voice. “Who are you?” Compared to His, my voice sounds small and insignificant, like a pebble cast out on a rock of an everlasting mountain.

“Who are you?” He repeats with a boom. He rotates his head to the side and instead of glimpsing skin, all I see is a holy brilliance that emanates from his face. He turns his head away, his whole being exudes an unfathomable power, something not of this world, encompassed in luminescent light, pulsing and flickering.

“Who am I?”

“We are you.” A multitude of voices rebound around me.

I whip around, gawking at the figures that spontaneously sprung up from nowhere, encircling me in a ring. Each one an echo of the other, emulating the same presence. All of them robed in different coloured robes, a profusion of vivid colours, each one fading into darker than lighter shades until it ends with the one in white. Twelve of them in total.

Why do you doubt who you are?

Realisation strikes like forks of lightning scarring a sky.

“I do not doubt....”

You merely refuse to accept.

Fresh anger thrums through my veins.

“I was told that I was chosen...is it possible that it could have been a mistake.”

“He does not make mistakes,” one of them says. Together, they say, “You were chosen not because you are worthy, but you are worthy because you were chosen.”

Anger fades, terror flashes within, and a nameless dread engulfs me.

“I....” I turn away but I recoil back, hemmed in by all sides but the statuesque figures. “I do not...I do not think I can do that...to be that.”

You already are.

“Do you think that being good is being incapable of evil? Being good is choosing to do what is right despite evil. It is a choice. The only what to save yourself is to save others. The Sagetai is only what you make it to be. Neither good nor evil. It is your choice.”

“.... What if I fail?”

“You can never fail if you have tried. That has always been enough.”

I shield my eyes, defending myself from something I cannot evade. The brilliance fades as quickly as it expanded. My arm lowers to my side to observe the backs of the beings—but not a being.

“I—” my voice cracks, a smothered cry rattles my words, “—I do not think I can do what you ask of me, I... I am not strong enough.”

“On your own, no. But you are never alone, He is with you, and He is the source of your strength. Which is why we are here, to guide you, and the one after you. For He has sent you and ones like you. The seed of hope. You will not understand it all now. But in the end, you will.”

Morsels of my crumbled resolve begin to piece together, one by one.

“Greatness lies not in being strong, but in the right use of strength. To become truly great, one must stand with people, not above them.”

The greatness of the Sagetai’s power is the measure of their surrender.

The luminous light that surrounds consumes all twelve of them like a divine inferno. In a flash, The Light blazes up—my gaze soars with it as The Light launches to the sky and erupts like a scintillating, interstellar explosion that hurtles out in every direction possible, massive waves of lustrous light rushing at me until it envelops me completely.

Struck by spears of energy—scorching sensations lances through me, electrifying every cell and muscle.

My eyes snap open. Unstable breaths implode from me as I frantically clamber up, my head whisking from left to right, my senses on hyper-alert, my skin crawls like a horde of insects run up every part of me—but not I’m not alone as a pair of hands tries to seize me.

“Aurora, Aurora. Calm down, it’s only me.”

His hands grip my shoulders to hold me steady. I look up at Vince’s eyes riddled with worry, he examines me comprehensively as if searching for any wounds.

“You...you did not see that?”

He gives me a look. “What?”

I look past him, gaping at the devolved landscape that has reverted to its former dolour, the colours bland, the terrain barren and dry, a jarring contradiction to the dark, bloated clouds that are ready to unburden themselves.

“Look at me—” Vince holds my face with both hands, forcing me to look into his eyes. His thumbs stroke my cheeks purposefully, wiping away the fresh spillage.

“What did you see?”

I do not even what I saw, heard, or felt.

I falter like I’m malfunctioning. A delirious laugh escapes me. “You would not believe me if I told you.”

Suddenly distant shouts echo from below, impatience goading action.

“We should go.”

I hurry; Vince matches my speed to catch up to me.

“If you are unwell—if you need to speak. You can speak with me and relieve yourself, share your grief with me, let me lighten your burdens by shouldering them.”

I crest the brink. “My grief?” It dawns on me. “What, you think I envisioned Solaris?”

“I do not know what to think. When I saw you, you appeared as if you were in a trance, realms away. You looked horrified.” He swallows hard. “It is a common effect many suffer on the heels of a trauma. I know things between us are...complex, but it does not matter, if you need me—”

I lunge forward, engrossing him, wrapping my arms around his neck. He swiftly responds, tautening his grip so that I press hard against him, as if hoping we will meld into one.

“Thank you,” I whisper into his ear. “And you are right about grief. I have been lost in my own. Solaris’s death will be a wound that will never heal; he will always be a part of every fibre of my being. Like many things, it is not something I can run from, the only choice is for me to face it... face them all.”

I pull away. Vince doesn’t let me.

“Vince,” I chide gingerly. “You need to let me go.”

“Only if you swear me to this.” He loosens his rock-rigid hold, only enough for our gaze to unify. “Whatever you face, you do not need to do it alone. We can face it together. Is that not the oath of husband and wife?”

I free a laugh. Wait. I laughed. And it was genuine and heartfelt—I’m grinning as well, equally sincere. I never thought I would again, not for a very long time.

“You are relentless—”

“When it comes to you. I do not think I’m capable of stopping.”

I look up, slowly swiping away a few fallen locks.

“I’m afraid there are things I must do on my own. You have your calling that you pursue, and I know nothing will you hinder you from it, not even me. It is time that I claimed my own destiny and choose a fate that has chosen me. Whatever it leads me.”