A Warrior's Dance

XXVII – Akilah

The sky was empty. No twinkling stars, no moon, only the thick gray clouds were scattered above. The air turned chilly now, his skin getting goose bumps as the wind blew in their direction. Raiden felt light-headed, the teleportation made him sick.

After all, he could still taste the sour vomit in his mouth.

Their shadows almost blended with the pitch black surrounding, the tall trees around them seemed making noises as they passed by.

“Where are we?” he finally asked.

“Somewhere they couldn’t follow you,” she replied, her white hair seemed to glow in the dark.

Raiden halted the moment the witch stopped.

“But where is ‘somewhere’, Madam Lariza?” he asked as the woman began to settle behind a huge old tree, enough to cover them both.

“We are in a grave yard,” she answered. “And I do not think it is appropriate to call me by that name.”

Raiden’s body was still tensed, eyeing the woman carefully. “I figured you’re just pretending the moment you start casting spells.”

He could clearly remember how she gracefully moved her hand as she fought the royal guards and how the black smoke danced from her mouth. He admitted that he had little doubt when his mother told him the story about the mad witch. But now, he was forced to believe everything.

“Lady Rainlee told you about my existence, is that right?”

Looking at her, the image of Madam Lariza was completely gone from her face, but her enchanting eyes remained, same green unreadable eyes. She had pointed ears, peeking from her thick white hair. Raiden swallowed, remembering every word his mother told him. “Yes.”

“They called me Estelle, the Mad Witch.” She gestured her hand and from the tip of her pointer finger, small dotted lights came out and dozens of fireflies materialized, giving them light.

For a brief moment, Raiden was captivated by the mesmerizing flickering of fireflies.

“I can see it in your eyes, young prince,” she muttered as she closed their distance. “Ask away, ask away. I’ll give the answer you seek.”

“My mother told me about my true race,” he started, bringing his hand to touch the scar on his face. “That a witch stole me from my father and mother,” he continued as he looked at her green eyes.

The Mad Witch dropped her gaze to his scar and suddenly, Raiden felt naked. He didn’t think he would ever get used to it.

“Raq, son of Rakin, is maybe the most feared captain in the Valkan tribe. He cares not about his crew’s opinions, especially if it is about his sons. That’s why he killed the elders who disapproved to his decision. You see, my young prince, you have a twin brother named Azaiah. And you were born with heads glued to each other. Your father and his first crew travelled to River Lights but the Silver Neraides failed to separate you.

“And I heard your condition so I seek you in River Lights.” She touched one of the fireflies flying near them. All the fireflies formed a twin baby, copying the faces of Raiden and Azaiah. “The Valkan Elders believed one of you will destroy your race while the other will bring endless glory. Raq allowed me to use my power to separate you and so I did.”

Raiden knew all that. But as he watched the fireflies formed a twin baby, his stomach churned, suddenly feeling the warmth of his twin brother.

“’There is a risk of what you ask of me, captain Raq’, I said to your father. ‘My power will kill one of them. The weak babe won’t be able to handle the pain of my power’. But your father dismissed the risk, saying his sons are Valkans and they are strong.”

Raiden froze as the Mad Witch sliced the fireflies, separating the twin baby. One baby cried, a sign of life, while the one remained still and quiet. The fireflies formed a woman which he assumed as his mother, cradling the crying baby in her arms. A bunch of the lightning bees formed the image of the Valkan Captain as he stared at the dead baby.

“One of us died?” he asked, unable to move himself as his story unfolded in front of him. His mind seemed afraid to know who met that fate. He knew for certain Azaiah was alive and the little girl could attest to that.

Estelle smiled at him, a meaningful smile. “You trusted your strength all your life, am I right? In the White Tower, you excel in things you do because you believed that you can. But you kept your self low, holding back to push your cousin up. But it is not your fate, young prince, it is not.”

He frowned, puzzled at what she was trying to say.

“It is you who died, Akilah,” she continued, waving her hand to control the fireflies. “You just sleep there, unmoving, not breathing, but your wound healed almost in an instant while your twin still cries in pain, face tainted with the wound. I brought you at the far end of the mountain where the tree of Maisha stood and place you there, praying for your life. Not long after, your hands moved, and your eyes opened.”

The tree of Maisha. Raiden saw a silver tree in his dreams, looking up to it.

“You did not cry. You meet death and you defeated it.”

He slowly shook his head. His gut twisted, muscles tensed, a lump in his throat. It was horrifying to know he came back from the dead and that he had been in a place where magic existed. It made his world in total shambles, one where he didn’t know how to build again.

“You are brave because you already faced death. Your will to live again became your strength. You have it in you, young prince, to defeat the undefeated.”

Raiden honestly didn’t know how to make sense of what he had just learned. He reached for the tree behind him, needing to hold to something to regain his balance.

“I actually don’t know… how to take all of it.” He shook his head, letting his heart drummed beneath his chest.

“I won’t tell you all now,” Estelle said as she seated on the wet grass. “I know, in time, you’ll find the answers to your whys.”

He nodded and seated as well, lost in thought.

Everything came crashing down at him. The thought of what would happen to his mother nagged at him, the shocked reaction from his cousin, Matthews, and how they all treated him the moment they had learned his true race. He realized then, that he wasn’t really safe in that kingdom.

He breathed, slowly taking it all in, letting himself shudder. It was painful to leave his mother behind like that, and harder not to say goodbye to Matthews. But he knew he had to believe in the mad witch who saved his life, not because he had no choice, but because he knew there was more to her than she let on.