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  Brox did the same, “to Gilcome.”

  “Are you sure his spell didn’t work?”

  “Positive. To start with, the House did not contain the elements of the spell. Gilcome assured me he could only create the liquid part of the potion, but could not call the flame to burn. Without the flame the potion doesn’t work. In this case the potion is not needed, since I used cleansing river rocks and they carry cleansing water.”

  Why would Gilcome have done something like that? Why had he risked our lives? It did not matter now when he was no more, except that it did. I was terrified to admit it, but no one could ever hurt me more than Gilcome. No, because his dying wish had come true. There wasn’t a more selfish person. Every second in every minute, thoughts of him crowded my mind. His stupid smile, his lies, his laugh, his stories, his...stupid, sweet smile. All of him lived, like an unwanted guest in my mind. It was impossible to forget him and his words and the way he spoke to me. I wished he were alive only to tell him how much I desired to erase him from my mind and that I hated missing him. “He knew it wouldn’t work?”

  “Of course he knew. A boy such as him wouldn’t dream of accomplishing callings of a higher level. He could only hope. I thank his hopefulness,” Dez laughed and continued the path to the city. Brox shot me a quick look as if he understood something Dez couldn’t. The tower bells began to ring when he reached the half-way point and the rotten flesh smell became stronger. My stomach weakened and we decided to stop for the night. Dez took the opportunity to examine my wrist; the pain wasn’t bothering me as much. He concluded it wasn’t broken, just sprained and left to gather healing leaves to wrap it in. Picking leaves at night infused them with healing energy.

  Dez had been spending too much time off by himself and that was concerning, due to his unpredictability. Brox offered to accompany him, but Dez insisted he should look after me. I didn’t need looking after, but the hauling night scared me so I was happy to have Brox. The flame was left in our care. It illuminated our faces and warmed the chilliness of the foggy night.

  “Will you ever take these off?” I rubbed my weakened wrist, sliding back the unchained shackles that remained like bangles on my arms.

  Brox studied me for a while, undecided. He had already unshackled Dez, the only one with abilities to call his death. “Fine.” There was something plaguing his mind. Brox had been distressed since our departure away from the river. We moved closer to the flame so that he could open what remained of the cuffs. “How was your life like before the Council?” It was a strange question since he knew various facts about my life, all guards did.

  “Didn’t they teach you about it in service school?”

  Brox chuckled at the conceited nature of my comment, realizing it had been a joke. “Honestly, it wasn’t my favorite subject.” The flame illuminated Brox’s smirk as he put the cuffs in the bag besides us. “Would you tell me about your world? I want to know if there’s hope for Existence.” Not a single thing originating from that world rendered hope for pure life, except within the nature of the mankind. Hope feeds strength to those faced with disappointment and failure. Even when we have given up, hope remains to show a new path. However, the path is destined to mislead us because hope cannot come without doubt.

  “It’s a place where the lives of many are based on the hope for a different life. They live upon deceit, never satisfied with themselves. Always searching for purpose. The sad majority, confines their time to accumulate as much wealth as possible. Hypnotized by greed, power is able to justify their existence; they call it success. There is nothing they love more than denying their need to be admired by their intelligence, beauty, wealth or talents. The worst of them are those who revere the accomplishments of others in high regard, feeling intimidated by the material achievements of others. It’s easy to destroy their spirits by lowering their living standards to the pleasure received from vanity and materialism. In the name of charity, they make themselves feel better, believing evil isn’t within, after having preformed an act of kindness.”

  “—much like Fexorrians.” Brox interrupted, noticing that Dez had returned with a handful of healing leaves. Sitting across from the side of the flame, Dez softly called to the leaves, making sure not to interrupt our conversation.

  The rage against my nature, oozed like a bright aura around us. Human nature had never felt comfortable on my being, my kind disgusted me and because of it I was its perfect representation. “Worst, maybe.” The flame sparked, as a laugh masked the fear behind the idea.

  “More than anyone,” Brox crawled closer, making sure only I could hear, “you should know that not everything is truly as it seems to be.” The comment was startling, but not more than his actions. His finger touched my face, sliding a lock of hair behind my ear. He leaned closer. The warmth of his words brushed the skin of my neck in a whisper, “Despising one’s nature is a result of dysfunctional emotions. Don’t trouble yourself understanding why you still feel strongly for him, just feel.”

  Arriving in this land had served to mend my relationship with Dez. I had come to admire the passionate confidence in which he carried himself. Seeing him through the brightness of the flame, alone, concentrated in his calling of the healing leaves, I wondered what he must have felt all those years frozen in time. “There’s no anger towards him anymore, Brox. I have grown to love Dez, not only as my grandfather but as a mentor.” Admitting it, felt peaceful and there remained the hope that he would one day, be proud to call me his granddaughter.

  “Not Dez, June, you know of whom I speak. He lives among the darkness in your eyes, his energy is fed by your rage. The more you wish to forget him, the harder it will be. ”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Pretend all you want.”

  Dez brought over the healing potion when he had finished mashing them. A drop of the liquid was rubbed onto my wrist and later wrapped with the remaining leaves. A minty smell distracted me from the itchy sensation. “What were you two talking about?” He became curious when neither of us responded. “It was about me, wasn’t it?” Angered by our silence, he stood up and scolded us. “After all I’m doing to keep you both alive and get us into Fexorrous, all you can do is sit here and talk about me? Unbelievable.”

  “We were talking about June’s world.”

  “Oh,” Dez sat back down quietly, eager to have a say on the subject. “What did you learn?”

  “Not much,” Brox chuckled, “June can only speak of the dull nature of the human race and their lack of interest in pure self-discovery.”

  Dez scoffed, “Don’t pay too much attention to her words,” he rolled his eyes. “Their true problem comes from an inability to identify the emotions being processed by their brains. Their senses allow them to, strongly, contain multiple emotions, sometimes contradicting ones, at the same time. It’s no wonder why the half of them are crazy. They make up for it by creating the most imaginative beings in Existence. For those few ones, everything is possible.

  After leaving Fexorrous, I came to find a world where people just wanted to escape their daily pains. In their eyes, the flow of my energy was more than natural. Because in their world it’s nearly impossible to fathom the existence of other kinds, I was accepted as one of them, although, it was clear to them I was different. That’s how I became their Magician. With my talents, I was able to provide entertainment. During summer nights, after long hours of work, they would gather along an empty piece of land set in the middle of South Ranches.

  A stranger, passing through worlds, I came back every night because they expected me. They wished for me to trick their minds into believing there was more to life than living the life of a human. These people needed me and worshiped me with their humility. As ruler, Fexorrians could never show the appreciation and respect that exudes from a human. Some came with sickness, anguish and other pains. Humans cared about me, truly, their hearts were unguarded to my eyes,” Dez looked at me. “So I built my home by their
side, to bring a little bit of what they call magic to their world.” With the best intentions Dez had created a portal to damnation. The House’s energy consumption was so high that its field began attracting the curiosity of unsuspecting strangers. The House took the lives of many, ingesting up to four humans per day. Creat’s Patrol was sent through the hole created by the House’s imbalance, guided by the traces of Dez’ energy signature. The only way to stop the Patrol from locating him was to freeze himself. Before doing so he sent callings to former Fexorrian followers. They were the ones who would later become Members of the House; those carrying on his purpose. “Many were taken by the Patrol sent to Earth, mostly all humans, that’s my biggest regret. The innocence of a race was injected with evil in my quest for righteousness.”

  Hunger created upheaval in my stomach. With just a thought, my mind savored the bitter fruits I had rejected earlier. We wouldn’t find any food this late, so sleep was the only option until the morning.

  Dez had kept his eyes fixed on the flame through the night. Brox was still asleep next to me when I felt a cold slime run down the wrapped wrist. With sleep in my eyes, I tried to rub the gooey paste on Brox’s red robe. When he felt the tug on the robe he lazily opened his eyes. “What are you doing?” At the speed of a bullet, the guard jumped on his feet and shielded himself behind Dez, who was now staring at my body in awe.

  “Ew.” Their combined disgust towards me was bothersome but their disregard for time shocked me. The earlier we began walking to the city walls the better chances we had on sneaking past the guards. Every day the city gates opened for cargo trucks between the hours of noon and darkness. The plan was to board a truck so that it would lead us inside. It was a simple plan, except Dez didn’t trust us enough to explain how we would get out of the truck, once inside, without being seen.

  “Guys? If this is your idea for a joke, I have to say, it’s not very nice.”

  “Don’t move.” Dez whispered in-between his teeth, as if he didn’t want his voice to be a disturbance.

  “Tell me we see the same thing.” Brox gagged before looking away.

  It was enough! I wasn’t going to be the subject of their amusement. The day was young and another wouldn’t pass before we entered Fexorrous. Waiting was a game for the uncertain. The healing wrap felt tight on my wrist, once removed, our plan to take the city would begin. Unwrapping it gave my skin freedom. As the leaves were pulled from my arm, they revealed the disgust eating away at my body. Like maggots, they slid around the skin, leaving trails of mucus and blood while creating a dimple. When the chill of the wind reached them, multiple rows of sharpened teeth sank in, trying to burrow into my body. With Brox’s help, Dez pinned me down, keeping my body from shaking with revulsion. Once I was able to sit up, the severity of the infestation paralyzed me. All of me was covered, every inch. One of them, ate through, deepening the dimple until it could create a tunnel into my skin. Hungry for my blood, the rest followed, desperately slithering towards the entry wound and creating several more. The numbing ache prevented my stomach from spilling out its emptiness. One by one they disappeared inside, taking ownership, invading it. At once, they clawed and tugged at my insides. My limbs shook while they moved restlessly. “Out!” I cried, repulsed by my own self. “Take them out!” When the movement ceased, Dez put his arms around me and allowed me to rest on his shoulders.

  “The healing of the wound is incredible, Dez.” Brox examined my arm closely with my permission. He ran his fingers down the skin, in admiration. “The flesh-eating grubs studied by the Council leave open sores, prone to infection. But these...”

  “These aren’t flesh-eating grubs.” Dez confirmed.

  “Then what kind of creatures are they?” What did they want with me? Nothing revolted me more than to look at myself, knowing that things lived within me, feeding off me, infecting the blood within. “Can we get them out, please? Dez!” The extraction pain would be worth it. Removing the tarnished flesh with my fingernails was more desirable than living with them inside.

  “Healing grubs. There must have been a reaction between this kind of soil and the leaves. This is a phenomenon extremely unlikely...a calling must be made for the grubs to enter a host.”

  “A calling? Can you undo it?” Brox’s hands shook like leaves, as he looked desperately for his spear.

  “No!”

  “—Wait. A Calling?” Brox panicked at the thought, rocking back and forth. “You mean, there’s someone trailing us? A Carrier?” Having found the spear on the ground, Brox gripped it strongly. “Worst, a Wielder?” If the calling was from one of Creat’s Wielders we were doomed as slaves too, because our signatures had been read and located.

  Dez became stressed by his paranoia and let out a yell: “Move one more time, and I will place a calling for your legs!” He turned his back from us. “Only one man is capable of calling such creations. He wouldn’t harm us.” Dez corrected himself quickly, “at least not back then.”

  Though my mind could not focus on anything but the bugs crawling within, for a moment a wandering derived my thinking. After all, Brox was right to be concerned, whoever had placed the grub-calling, had managed to go around Dez’ untracking flame. Brox stared at Dez, rattled with fear, but said no more. His hand pointed to the spot where the flame had been burning through the night, except it no longer burned. With an unlit flame, our energy signatures were open not only to the Fexorrian army but to anyone capable of picking up our signals. The stunned look on Dez’ face confirmed that more than a few friends of his, anxiously awaited to find him...to find us.

  ***

  The ground vibrated with the force of the tires rolling slowly towards the gates. The tower’s searchlight guided the truck’s path. Hidden in-between the creases of the rock-like peak, we had watched a caravan of trucks enter Fexorrous. With every truck, Brox was sure to voice doubts about the operation. The first truck’s stopping position gave the guards a good vintage point. He convinced us to camp out and wait for the next day. Just as we had given up, truck tracks paralyzed us with joy. Upon studying the next truck, Brox insisted it was impossible to break into the truck, for we wouldn’t have time to lift the doors upwards. The following truck had multiple locks on the back doors. However, it was someone’s will for us to enter through those gates, and somehow we would.

  The bugs inside, scattered excitedly as they felt the strength of my will. The last of the trucks was a few feet away, this was our chance. A small lock on the side kept its two outward-opening doors closed. It began to slow down close to the hollows of the peak. Dez pushed Brox out from behind the rocks. Realizing he was uncovered, Brox ran to the truck. Dismissing any doubts, he hopped on the truck’s step and waited for my hand to help me up. The step was small and couldn’t hold Dez, who was running behind us. Immediately, Brox, tried to burst the door open with his spear, but the lock was flat and too small. Exhausted, he sighed “We can’t.”

  “Hurry!” Dez yelled, out of breath, dripping sweat onto his black coat. “The driver is signaling for the truck’s entry permissions.” The gates would open in a matter of minutes, meaning the truck would parade itself in front of the guards. If we couldn’t open the lock, we had to jump off. “Try once more.”

  Brox hit the lock again, inserting the spear in-between, to no avail. Dez placed both hands on the steps, believing that with his help, Brox could open the doors. Since the step wasn’t big enough for the three of us, it made sense for me to jump off, Dez was stronger. Brox continued slamming the spear’s tip against the lock. Before I had the chance to drop off the truck, Dez called to my attention from the ground, “June, the key,” he laughed frantically, “you have the key, you have it.”

  “What key?” Brox stopped hitting the lock.

  “There.” Dez pointed towards my neck. Netania’s potion was hanging from the necklace, next to it was the small golden key Ms. Baynes had given me. The one I had vowed not to use. “Use it June, you must. It’s our only chance.” He yelled.
/>   Brox stared at the key while I held on to it. “He doesn't seem to know how keys work, does he?—Dez,” Brox squatted closer to him “any key won’t open this lock. June’s key won't work on this lock.”

  “June, please.” Dez begged. “That key is special—tell him June.”

  I stared at their faces while Ms. Baynes’ words ran loudly in my mind: all that it opens should stay locked, for it unlocks the wicked. “I can’t.”

  “Listen, June,” Dez whispered strongly, feeling frustrated by my resistance, “if they discover us out here, we will die. Place the key in!”

  “It’s small enough, it might work” Brox added.

  The gates were beginning to open as Dez pleaded. I removed the necklace from my neck and placed the key inside the lock. “It doesn’t work.” It had been our last hope. The disappointment allowed me to feel relieved. The dread of having to use it was now gone, and with it had come no guilt. When the truck’s engine started, it was evident that the feeling wouldn’t last long. We were doomed. In a few seconds the truck would drive off, with or without us. My feet grew heavy, becoming one with the step of the truck. Then I knew the doors would be opened and the dreadful feeling returned like an unwanted thought.

  “Flip the key on its side!” Dez yelled, holding on to the key’s power but even more so to my belief in it. After turning the key, it fit inside the lock. I found myself wishing to unlock the doors, as if the action of it, would bring us happiness. A clicking sound sent the evil behind the doors through my veins, letting me feel the weight of my actions. The doors came apart. From that moment on, the days became darker and the nights colder.