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Previous Chapter: ENDLESS Chapter 19: Lessons

Next Chapter: ENDLESS Chapter 21: Defeat

All Chapters HERE .

Watch the Trailer: ENDLESS Trailer

CHAPTER 20: ENCOUNTERS

It was extremely unlikely for the human rebellion to be in possession of an enchanted bed. It must be because I’m consistently exhausted by the end of the day. Only that could explain why Malia passed out immediately every time it was her turn to sleep on it. That night, like the previous few nights, she went to sleep freshly bathed and with the memory of Gorken’s fingers persisting gently in her hair; the braiding gesture had become their own little ritual, and he was better at combing it.

Malia was a little sad that now that her new routine was coming naturally to her, it was time to cut it short. As much as she took pleasure in her daily magic lectures and training sessions, the call of Kadem’s lair was the loudest of all. Their rendezvous with the silver witch was almost upon them, and they had made preparations to depart headquarters the next morning.

Malia was dreaming of picking giant wild berries around the Green Mountain, which in her dream wasn’t green but purple for some reason, when her own untimely hunger roused her. She got up and drank a glass of water, settling for that instead of her ludicrous impulse to raid the kitchens of the rebellion like a starved beast. As she lowered her drink, she noticed Gorken sweating and grimacing in his sleep. She hadn’t had the chance to approach him when he woke with a start, panting and covering his face with a shuddering hand.

“Are you alright?” Malia took a seat next to him on the tiny couch.

“It’s nothing.” He stared at the dark wall.

“Gorken, it isn’t nothing. It’s not the first time this happens.” Guilt punctured her as she said it; she had been sleeping so soundly as of late that she had no idea whether Gorken had been struggling to rest every single night.

“It really is nothing. Go back to sleep.”

“That’s fair.” She took offense, “You told me to share my burdens, to trust you guys. But you can’t do the same?”

“It’s not about trust.” Gorken was searching for a way to change the subject, but his mind was too scared and too tired to be witty.

“Then tell me.” She insisted.

“Malia, I have to deal with this on my own.”

“I can tell that you don’t mean that. And even if you did, you’re doing a terrible job at dealing with it. Maybe I can’t help but… I want to know. I won’t just pretend you’re not in pain. I’m here.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” How can she be so talkative at this hour? Gorken longed only for rest, and yet the thought of going back to sleep frightened him. He was trapped between Malia’s questions and his nightmares, with nowhere to go.

“Why?” Malia pleaded.

Gorken looked away from her in response.

“Why are you evading me?!” her anger got the better of her. Malia knew she was being selfish and immature. She had no right to force Gorken to talk. But realizing that he wouldn’t open up to her, when he was her refuge, wounded parts of herself she didn’t know she had. Why did he seem cornered? She couldn’t bear to think that Gorken wanted to run away from her, and she didn’t know how to deescalate the situation she herself had caused.

“Not everyone is like you!” Gorken had kept his voice lower than Malia’s, but its depth made it sound louder. Disarmed, she held her tongue, waiting.

“…Not everyone wants answers.” He went on, “My nightmares… I don’t want to find out why I see what I see in them. I’m afraid of finding out.”

Malia wasn’t sure how to put into words what she was feeling, so she allowed her hands to take the lead. She caressed the back of Gorken’s head gently, “Thank you for telling me… There are fears that weaken when we share them. Maybe… maybe little by little, you’ll feel like talking about what you see in your nightmares. I’m sorry for being so pushy.”

Gorken leaned closer to her; as much as he dreaded the idea of expressing his horrors, the way Malia delicately played with his hair was dangerously convincing. He forced himself to pull away after a few moments. Once they parted, Malia returned to the bed. She was about to lie down when she spoke, “Are you sure that abominable couch isn’t to blame?”

He replied with a soft snicker, “Go back to sleep. We have a long day ahead of us.” Gorken hadn’t expected to get any sleep after that, but strangely, he did.

The next morning, after having breakfast, Malia and her companions visited Rose’s study to pick up the twins. There they found the large woman rejoicing at the results of her work, “Lovely, just lovely!”

Hedera and Licorice were happily showing off their white dresses, twirling their skirts lightly. During the past few days Rose would ramble at anyone within earshot about the difficulties of crafting garments for little girls that were as functional as they were pretty to look at. It was a relief then, to see her finally satisfied.

Bayard was in the middle of pointing out that white was an inconvenient color for travelling attire when Aldous elbowed him in the stomach. Malia and Gorken were grateful for Aldous’ timely intervention; none of them were ready to handle Rose starting over her dissertation from scratch.

The day was still young when they left headquarters. Now that Malia had learned to hide her magical energy, they could take the shortest route through the forest without dealing with unexpected attacks from demons. Even so, crossing those territories meant that there were expected battles ahead of them.

Hedera and Licorice were used to witnessing. For their kind, much of life was spent watching, listening, taking in the world as it moved, and lived, and died around them. A tree would not move to save the baby bird falling from its nest, but it could still mourn its loss. Watching their human companions slaying fallen demons was much the same. The twins would hold hands and cover their sorrow with the knowledge that not much else could be done for a fallen. To dismantle their flesh and return them to the soil was to give back their freedom, and their dignity.

Their vigilant eyes saw more than saddening violence though; they observed the artistry in it, the feelings behind it, the hard work and the relationships that when intertwined made up a fight. The princess and the leader fought together more and more often, getting used to each other’s combat habits and mutually entrusting their back to the other. Aldous and Bayard mirrored that partnership, but theirs was older, already set in stone, both for better and for worse. In that settled bond Hedera noticed a tendency, a crutch that she couldn’t quietly keep to herself.

After hours of walking and battling that blurred into each other, they stopped to regain their strength. Aldous, Malia and Gorken searched for food in the forest while Bayard sat on a rock, lighting a fire to roast whatever prize his friends brought back. Licorice selected a spot where the light grazed the earth and stood in it, her eyes fixed on the sun.

“Hey.” Hedera stepped next to Bayard.

“Hmm?” he turned her way.

“Why don’t you ever deliver the killing blow? It’s always Aldous who finishes off enemies.”

“I can’t kill. That’s why Aldous does it.”

“Why? You’re still engaging in combat… why not do it yourself?”

“I don’t like death. I can’t stand it.” Bayard replied as he turned his small sparks into a flame.

“Wouldn’t that make you a hypocrite?” Hedera questioned him, “Lives are ending anyway.”

“Why does it matter, then?” he said calmly, “The result is the same, even if I don’t kill.”

“Why does it matter?” She echoed in disbelief. She placed herself in front of him, “I wouldn’t have noticed if it wasn’t for your stupid face! Each time Aldous kills you’re unable to hide your regret. It’s obvious you’re not fine with it!” She pointed an indignant finger at him, “By letting him carry your burdens you’re only making them heavier for yourself! You suffer in silence because he thinks he’s helping you, and you both pat yourselves on the back for being considerate. What a pair of self-satisfying morons!”

There were two seconds of silence while Hedera gasped for breath. And in those seconds, Bayard strained himself to appear unperturbed. He couldn’t believe Hedera had seen right through him. The noisy little girl had put into trivial words feelings he had been struggling with for a long time; she made it sound so easy, so obvious.

“I’ll never comprehend humans!” she kept going, “A pair of broken legs will prevent most opponents from fighting back, so why the weird narrow focus on killing anyway? And what about language? The one thing you humans seem to be good at, and you refuse to use it properly! Did you know you can talk to Aldous? In fact you supposedly trust each other, and yet-”

“You talk too much.” Bayard interrupted her. He put his arms around her in a careful hug, but that was enough for Hedera to lose track of what she was saying. Even though they were embracing, there was an undeniable distance between them. Bayard touched her as he would a frail little thing, as if she was a child or a small animal, to be cared for and protected… But not loved as an equal. She held on to his back with her small hands, but that only increased the invisible distance.

“Thank you.” Bayard murmured. The crackling of the growing fire made it hard to hear, but Hedera did. Away from them, Licorice felt a warm happiness and a cold loneliness filling her chest; neither of them was coming from her own heart. She glanced towards the fire and she understood.

By the time Aldous, Malia and Gorken returned, Hedera had joined her sister and was basking in the sun, and Bayard was still sitting near the fire. They roasted the mushrooms and walnuts they found in the woods, and had a humble but tasty meal before resuming their travel.

They had been marching quietly for several hours when a female voice spoke from behind them, blasting through the peaceful moment that had encased the young group, “I found the treacherous princess!”

They all turned around abruptly, and their eyes landed on a smiling young woman with golden hair, her finger signaling them flagrantly. They couldn’t believe they hadn’t sensed her; they hadn’t seen her until she had addressed them. Malia thought of asking the twins if they had smelled her coming, but something else snatched her attention: the young woman was wearing the leather vest of an immortal soldier. Pinned on her chest, partially hidden by her blonde mane, she saw the golden emblem of the Daimonlance clan.

Malia’s stomach turned to frigid stone. A general.

Description

Previous Chapter: ENDLESS Chapter 19: Lessons

Next Chapter: ENDLESS Chapter 21: Defeat

All Chapters HERE .

Watch the Trailer: ENDLESS Trailer

CHAPTER 20: ENCOUNTERS

It was extremely unlikely for the human rebellion to be in possession of an enchanted bed. It must be because I’m consistently exhausted by the end of the day. Only that could explain why Malia passed out immediately every time it was her turn to sleep on it. That night, like the previous few nights, she went to sleep freshly bathed and with the memory of Gorken’s fingers persisting gently in her hair; the braiding gesture had become their own little ritual, and he was better at combing it.

Malia was a little sad that now that her new routine was coming naturally to her, it was time to cut it short. As much as she took pleasure in her daily magic lectures and training sessions, the call of Kadem’s lair was the loudest of all. Their rendezvous with the silver witch was almost upon them, and they had made preparations to depart headquarters the next morning.

Malia was dreaming of picking giant wild berries around the Green Mountain, which in her dream wasn’t green but purple for some reason, when her own untimely hunger roused her. She got up and drank a glass of water, settling for that instead of her ludicrous impulse to raid the kitchens of the rebellion like a starved beast. As she lowered her drink, she noticed Gorken sweating and grimacing in his sleep. She hadn’t had the chance to approach him when he woke with a start, panting and covering his face with a shuddering hand.

“Are you alright?” Malia took a seat next to him on the tiny couch.

“It’s nothing.” He stared at the dark wall.

“Gorken, it isn’t nothing. It’s not the first time this happens.” Guilt punctured her as she said it; she had been sleeping so soundly as of late that she had no idea whether Gorken had been struggling to rest every single night.

“It really is nothing. Go back to sleep.”

“That’s fair.” She took offense, “You told me to share my burdens, to trust you guys. But you can’t do the same?”

“It’s not about trust.” Gorken was searching for a way to change the subject, but his mind was too scared and too tired to be witty.

“Then tell me.” She insisted.

“Malia, I have to deal with this on my own.”

“I can tell that you don’t mean that. And even if you did, you’re doing a terrible job at dealing with it. Maybe I can’t help but… I want to know. I won’t just pretend you’re not in pain. I’m here.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” How can she be so talkative at this hour? Gorken longed only for rest, and yet the thought of going back to sleep frightened him. He was trapped between Malia’s questions and his nightmares, with nowhere to go.

“Why?” Malia pleaded.

Gorken looked away from her in response.

“Why are you evading me?!” her anger got the better of her. Malia knew she was being selfish and immature. She had no right to force Gorken to talk. But realizing that he wouldn’t open up to her, when he was her refuge, wounded parts of herself she didn’t know she had. Why did he seem cornered? She couldn’t bear to think that Gorken wanted to run away from her, and she didn’t know how to deescalate the situation she herself had caused.

“Not everyone is like you!” Gorken had kept his voice lower than Malia’s, but its depth made it sound louder. Disarmed, she held her tongue, waiting.

“…Not everyone wants answers.” He went on, “My nightmares… I don’t want to find out why I see what I see in them. I’m afraid of finding out.”

Malia wasn’t sure how to put into words what she was feeling, so she allowed her hands to take the lead. She caressed the back of Gorken’s head gently, “Thank you for telling me… There are fears that weaken when we share them. Maybe… maybe little by little, you’ll feel like talking about what you see in your nightmares. I’m sorry for being so pushy.”

Gorken leaned closer to her; as much as he dreaded the idea of expressing his horrors, the way Malia delicately played with his hair was dangerously convincing. He forced himself to pull away after a few moments. Once they parted, Malia returned to the bed. She was about to lie down when she spoke, “Are you sure that abominable couch isn’t to blame?”

He replied with a soft snicker, “Go back to sleep. We have a long day ahead of us.” Gorken hadn’t expected to get any sleep after that, but strangely, he did.

The next morning, after having breakfast, Malia and her companions visited Rose’s study to pick up the twins. There they found the large woman rejoicing at the results of her work, “Lovely, just lovely!”

Hedera and Licorice were happily showing off their white dresses, twirling their skirts lightly. During the past few days Rose would ramble at anyone within earshot about the difficulties of crafting garments for little girls that were as functional as they were pretty to look at. It was a relief then, to see her finally satisfied.

Bayard was in the middle of pointing out that white was an inconvenient color for travelling attire when Aldous elbowed him in the stomach. Malia and Gorken were grateful for Aldous’ timely intervention; none of them were ready to handle Rose starting over her dissertation from scratch.

The day was still young when they left headquarters. Now that Malia had learned to hide her magical energy, they could take the shortest route through the forest without dealing with unexpected attacks from demons. Even so, crossing those territories meant that there were expected battles ahead of them.

Hedera and Licorice were used to witnessing. For their kind, much of life was spent watching, listening, taking in the world as it moved, and lived, and died around them. A tree would not move to save the baby bird falling from its nest, but it could still mourn its loss. Watching their human companions slaying fallen demons was much the same. The twins would hold hands and cover their sorrow with the knowledge that not much else could be done for a fallen. To dismantle their flesh and return them to the soil was to give back their freedom, and their dignity.

Their vigilant eyes saw more than saddening violence though; they observed the artistry in it, the feelings behind it, the hard work and the relationships that when intertwined made up a fight. The princess and the leader fought together more and more often, getting used to each other’s combat habits and mutually entrusting their back to the other. Aldous and Bayard mirrored that partnership, but theirs was older, already set in stone, both for better and for worse. In that settled bond Hedera noticed a tendency, a crutch that she couldn’t quietly keep to herself.

After hours of walking and battling that blurred into each other, they stopped to regain their strength. Aldous, Malia and Gorken searched for food in the forest while Bayard sat on a rock, lighting a fire to roast whatever prize his friends brought back. Licorice selected a spot where the light grazed the earth and stood in it, her eyes fixed on the sun.

“Hey.” Hedera stepped next to Bayard.

“Hmm?” he turned her way.

“Why don’t you ever deliver the killing blow? It’s always Aldous who finishes off enemies.”

“I can’t kill. That’s why Aldous does it.”

“Why? You’re still engaging in combat… why not do it yourself?”

“I don’t like death. I can’t stand it.” Bayard replied as he turned his small sparks into a flame.

“Wouldn’t that make you a hypocrite?” Hedera questioned him, “Lives are ending anyway.”

“Why does it matter, then?” he said calmly, “The result is the same, even if I don’t kill.”

“Why does it matter?” She echoed in disbelief. She placed herself in front of him, “I wouldn’t have noticed if it wasn’t for your stupid face! Each time Aldous kills you’re unable to hide your regret. It’s obvious you’re not fine with it!” She pointed an indignant finger at him, “By letting him carry your burdens you’re only making them heavier for yourself! You suffer in silence because he thinks he’s helping you, and you both pat yourselves on the back for being considerate. What a pair of self-satisfying morons!”

There were two seconds of silence while Hedera gasped for breath. And in those seconds, Bayard strained himself to appear unperturbed. He couldn’t believe Hedera had seen right through him. The noisy little girl had put into trivial words feelings he had been struggling with for a long time; she made it sound so easy, so obvious.

“I’ll never comprehend humans!” she kept going, “A pair of broken legs will prevent most opponents from fighting back, so why the weird narrow focus on killing anyway? And what about language? The one thing you humans seem to be good at, and you refuse to use it properly! Did you know you can talk to Aldous? In fact you supposedly trust each other, and yet-”

“You talk too much.” Bayard interrupted her. He put his arms around her in a careful hug, but that was enough for Hedera to lose track of what she was saying. Even though they were embracing, there was an undeniable distance between them. Bayard touched her as he would a frail little thing, as if she was a child or a small animal, to be cared for and protected… But not loved as an equal. She held on to his back with her small hands, but that only increased the invisible distance.

“Thank you.” Bayard murmured. The crackling of the growing fire made it hard to hear, but Hedera did. Away from them, Licorice felt a warm happiness and a cold loneliness filling her chest; neither of them was coming from her own heart. She glanced towards the fire and she understood.

By the time Aldous, Malia and Gorken returned, Hedera had joined her sister and was basking in the sun, and Bayard was still sitting near the fire. They roasted the mushrooms and walnuts they found in the woods, and had a humble but tasty meal before resuming their travel.

They had been marching quietly for several hours when a female voice spoke from behind them, blasting through the peaceful moment that had encased the young group, “I found the treacherous princess!”

They all turned around abruptly, and their eyes landed on a smiling young woman with golden hair, her finger signaling them flagrantly. They couldn’t believe they hadn’t sensed her; they hadn’t seen her until she had addressed them. Malia thought of asking the twins if they had smelled her coming, but something else snatched her attention: the young woman was wearing the leather vest of an immortal soldier. Pinned on her chest, partially hidden by her blonde mane, she saw the golden emblem of the Daimonlance clan.

Malia’s stomach turned to frigid stone. A general.