Tribes of Venara Page 9

  “Boyfriend? What are you talking about? She’s ten.”

  “What are you talking about? How could your twin be ten?”

  Nolan stared at his brother for a moment before he was overtaken by a sensation of sinking dread. He pushed past Thomas and knocked on the closed door to Steph’s room.

  The voice that greeted his ears was utterly bereft of the whiny innocence that he had wistfully recalled countless times over the past several weeks. “Go away.”

  He opened the door.

  “Ah, get the hell out of my room Thom—Nolan?” The girl had almost thrown a pillow at the doorway when the look on her face was filled with stunned relief, her bottom lip beginning to quiver as she swept a face full of auburn hair aside to inspect him with similarly coloured eyes.

  This isn’t real, Nolan thought as the girl shoved past her lanky, shifty-eyed boyfriend, who sat awkwardly on a corner of her bed in a white undershirt and a pair of grey briefs. This can’t be real! Steph was supposed to be a bit less than half the age of the girl before him. Had he somehow been returned to the wrong reality? He stood motionlessly with his arms hanging limp at his sides, unable to so much as blink. I can’t take another world-level mindfuck.

  He sucked in a deep breath and stepped back from the girl before him, who had fallen into a fit of hysterics as she barraged him with questions of what had happened to him over the past month. For now he just had to assume that he had somehow returned to Earth, though not necessarily the one that he’d left behind. The best course of action would be to act with discretion until he could build a better understanding of the situation, and to keep the truth about the past month to himself. How was he supposed to explain that he’d spent the past several weeks trapped on another planet in some completely different area of space?

  “I’m back,” he smiled, and he then finally returned her embrace.

  Once they had completed their teary reunion, Nolan’s gaze drifted over to the well-muscled young man at the end of Steph’s bed, who’d kept to himself throughout the intrusion.

  “Hey buddy. Sorry, but you need to go.”

  The young man looked confused for a moment before scrambling to gather up his scattered clothing.

  “Zach, it’s okay. Nolan, he’s my boyfriend.”

  He gave the boy a feral stare. “You should head home, Zach.”

  “Nolan, what’s wrong with—”

  “It’s okay, Steph.” The boy had dressed quite quickly. “I get it. I’ll see you at school.” He pecked her on the cheek and then nodded toward Nolan. “Glad to see you’re back safe, man. Um—sorry.” He rushed from the room, nodding at him and Thomas on the way out.

  “Why did you do that?” Steph asked.

  “Really? That juicehead?”

  “He’s really sweet.”

  “Did you see how fast buddy got dressed? That wasn’t some normal reaction. That was some trial and error speed.” Wait is this really what I should be concerned with? He gave his head a rattling shake, as if to keep himself from slipping into a drowsy dream. I’m not thinking straight. What the hell is happening?

  “You okay, Nolan?” said Thomas.

  His worries abruptly dissipated as he grabbed hold of his sister’s shoulders and stared her into her youthful brown eyes. “Listen Steph, I just want to make sure you don’t get deceived by some scumbag. If he’s super nice to you, it’s not because he’s just sweet to everyone. He’s probably putting on a façade just for you, so he can get you to trust him enough to be irrational.”

  “Zach isn’t like that.”

  “He’s exactly like that. Check his phone and it’ll be loaded with the names of girls. You think he only texts you? He was on my hockey team, and I can’t tell you how many times I had to listen to him brag about some girl he got with at a party over the weekend or a first date to the movies.”

  “You don’t have to be so harsh, Nolan.”

  “You would jump in like that. What kind of brother lets some asshole grease his sister? Have I taught you nothing, Thomas?”

  Why am I saying these things? I should be hugging him—both of them. Even if that isn’t the Steph I know, she’s still my sister. No, she’s not my sister! What am I thinking?

  As strange as it seemed, he wasn’t in full control of his body. His reactions were genuine and aligned with his character, but it was almost as if he had no quarter in regards to the direction that his thoughts decided to roam, or where his focus happened to settle. When he tried to blurt out something that he normally wouldn’t say in this situation he found himself unable to do so.

  “I just want what’s best for you, Steph.”

  As he uttered this caring phrase, he once again experienced the collapse of his environment, and almost instantly returned to the dark abyss of nothingness that had previously dominated his perceptions. As with before, fresh streams of colour appeared in the distance and soon materialized into a fresh scene at a new location.

  He twitched from the sudden wave of pain that washed over him like acidic tides, and yet he was immobile. His arms and legs were bound to the polished bedposts of the dusty bed that sat beneath him, his body naked and almost entirely covered in smears of blood. He was riddled with small cuts and bruises, and several of his bones were broken. Five strips of his flesh had been peeled off of his body, one on each of his limbs and another on his abdomen, each the size of a stick of liquorice. Beside him stood Bron, whose powerful physique loomed over him like a foreboding cloud.

  Why am I—holy shit, this hurts! This fucking hurts! Oh my God, I can’t!

  He screamed into a bloody, saliva-soaked rag that had been stuffed into his mouth with enough force to break a few of his teeth and then tied around his head.

  “Where is your friend?” Bron asked. He considered the tears that trailed down either side of Nolan’s face, snickered and then reached over to a wooden tray that bore at least a dozen metal utensils, from tweezers and pliers to various hammers and even a spoon. An overstuffed fireplace left the room stewing in a terribly discomforting heat, the head of a metallic brand glowing red-hot amidst the flames.

  “I don’t know!” he screamed into the gag.

  “Your friend was with you in the forest, but I only managed to find you after I escaped that beast.”

  That’s right. He’d been captured by Bron on his way out of the forest, just a few hours after he and Jason had been separated by the appearance of a giant praying mantis. Now he was being tortured so that he might betray the other boy’s location to this scoundrel, an excruciating process that had been ongoing for upwards of two hours.

  “I don’t know!” he screamed again, the meaning of his words lost to muffling cloth.

  “You keep saying that, but I don’t believe you.” Bron glanced beneath his waste and his voice turned dark. “This was never about killing you, but simply enjoying myself with you like I have been. That other boy was the one that bothered me the most, so if you let me know where he is then maybe I’ll grant you a quick death.” A few moments of terrifying silence. “Humph, still not willing to talk? Let’s see what you say after you lose another strip of skin.”

  Does he mean—

  He struggled against his bonds like a wild mustang in the midst of a cruel corral, for his malicious torturer had gleefully sprinkled a heavy handful of salt into the bloody strip of exposed muscle on his left thigh. His wrists and ankles bled where the rope had finally peeled away a significant amount of skin. What the hell is this! Please God, just kill me already!

  “I won’t…” His words died as the man reached for his flaying knife, which was already smeared scarlet.

  Nolan would have never imagined that he would leave the world in the worst way imaginable. He knew that this man wouldn’t allow him to die too quickly, that the scant hours he had remaining to him would epitomize torment and anguish. But it was inevitable that he suffer through it. No matter what he did, he was going to die.

  Nothing good would come from betraying his
friend, as he didn’t believe for a minute that this lunatic would let him leave this room alive. If Jason was still out there then Nolan needed to buy as much time as possible for the other boy to find his way back to the village and seek out Nyla and Quin, even if it meant that he was destined to die a demon’s death.

  Just as his captor was about to make Nolan’s worst fears come to pass, everything around him dissipated like a thick cloud of smoke, and he was once again within that deep, perilous darkness.

  Who knew that the first person to discover my inheritance would be from neither Nia nor Venara?

  A sense of alarm spread throughout Nolan’s awareness. What was that voice? He hadn’t recognized the language.

  Don’t be alarmed, sonny.

  This time he had understood, for the man had spoken in flawless English.

  Hello?

  What you think in this realm, you say. Rest assured that there won’t be any more scenarios for you to play out.

  Scenarios? He had just experienced an older brother’s nightmare with a bizarre twist and then he had become a real life SAW victim. From the sounds of it those bizarre nightmares had been caused by the owner of the old voice that strangely permeated his mind. For what reason had he been forced to go through such a traumatic event?

  Because your cut came into contact with my Inheritance Monument. Since your blood lacks any sort of energy, you activated the spiritual arrayment embedded onto the stone while at the same time waking me from my dreamless slumber.

  Whoa, hold on. What’s an Inheritance Monument?

  It is a means to pass on the teachings of a master in cultivation, be it in martial arts or the spiritual energies, though it comes at great cost to the creator. This one is special, however, the “needle in a haystack” as your people often said.

  My people?

  You will have to forgive me, for I have taken glimpse at your memories.

  Then could you please explain things so that I can make sense of them? Like where we are and how we’re communicating, or the purpose of all this.

  We are engaging in mental communication, as both of us are currently residing within your subconscious. As for the purpose, it has to do with the two scenarios that you just suffered through. Just because your blood was able to activate my Inheritance Monument doesn’t mean that you are worthy of inheriting my core cultivation method, among other things.

  The hell is all this now? So the owner of the voice had left an Inheritance Monument in that creepy glade in order to leave behind his teachings, which he had activated by pure chance. That sent him deep into his subconscious where he was somehow able to communicate with the master of the monument. As for the reason why they were able to hear each other, he was still awaiting an explanation.

  My consciousness had been residing within the monument. The moment it was activated, I projected it into your spiritual space.

  Question marks floated throughout Nolan’s mind, though that didn’t stop him from pouring all of his efforts into analyzing the situation for the sake of future rationalization.

  You will understand shortly. There was an old, amiable laugh. I can’t help but think of a pupil I once had, so technical with his thoughts. I’ll say that you’re a tad less rigid, however.

  Although he was completely thrown off by current events, Nolan did his best to calm down so that he could focus on asking the important questions. Is there a specific reason you want to pass on your knowledge?

  There is, but there’s no use in you knowing such things. Suffice it to say that I will give you the tremendous gift of the greatest core cultivation method that my people have ever known, and in exchange I will ask that you take care of something for me once you return to Venara, the world that you’ve recently called home.

  Is that the only way for me to leave this place?

  No. In a while you shall be returned to Venara in the same manner as you left it.

  Relief washed over Nolan, though only momentary in nature. What’s the task that you want me to complete?

  I can’t say right now, but it will be very dangerous. That being said, you won’t be capable of completing it until many years have passed, so at the very least you will have a higher chance of survival if you agree to my terms than if you were to return to Venara as you are now.

  The old man made a good point. Forget returning to Redfox Village, he would most likely die in the wilderness wherever he happened to reappear. Not only that, Nyla had once spoken of the value of a core cultivation method, which was a meditative technique that allowed one to draw in the energies of the world with a much higher degree of efficiency than standard physical training. Something about breathing patterns and mental focus enabled the body to absorb the energies of the world at a faster and more efficient pace.

  Those visions, I couldn’t control my body. I mean, it seemed like I could at first, but then… Things felt so real, and everything played out just as you’d expect it to.

  The scenarios that you experienced are a function of the monument that I designed in order to judge the character of my potential successors. You weren’t supposed to be aware during those scenarios, but it seems that the passage of time has greatly weakened the spiritual arrayment that controls the monument. Of all the hundred scenes that just played out, I am truly sorry that you had to be conscious for the trial of loyalty.

  Evidently the trial of loyalty was the gruesome torture that he’d suffered through. Hold on, there were ninety-eight other scenarios?

  Needless to say that you have gained my approval. The old voice took on a haggard accent. When you wake up in a few moments my technique and the basic knowledge surrounding it will be imprinted into your mind. It will hurt quite terribly I’m afraid, but once the pain recedes you will have access to such thoughts as if they were your own. Good luck, sonny.

  Wait! That’s too abrupt of an exit. When can I talk to you again?

  Call upon me when you reach the Genesis stage. With enough power in your voice, you should be able to wake me.

  Nolan blinked to find that he hadn’t moved at all since the peculiar white light had shot out of the stone slab. Just like that? Excuse me, are you still there?

  His ears alighted to a stony grinding sound and he turned to find that the big tablet was now riddled with expanding cracks. After a few moments it fractured into thousands of smaller pieces and then crumbled away into a fine powder. Did…did all that happen in a split second? He slapped both of his cheeks and shook his head. I need to think back and—ah, what the hell?

  He didn’t have long to ponder the demise of the stele, for a terrible pain began to eat away at the inside of his skull as if a razor-sharp blade of ice were lodged deep into his head. He hollered and screamed for several minutes, falling to his knees and clutching at his forehead with feral fright. His cries eventually subsided as the searing pain slowly gave way to an alien sensation that was difficult to perceive.

  An endless wave of foreign memories swept through his mind so quickly that he couldn’t focus on a single one of them for more than an instant. He caught only the briefest glimpses of strangely dressed people, indescribably gorgeous landscapes and stunning sceneries that left profound impacts on his heart despite only surfacing for mere fractions of a moment. The majority of memories scattered into the corners of his mind like clusters of fireworks in a midnight sky, which made room for an inebriating rush of incoherent information that Nolan could hardly make sense of.

  Oddly enough when he thought back to what had been carved into the stone slab he was shocked to find that he could understand the characters as easily as English, not to mention that he recalled them with perfect clarity. The cause of this was obviously that beam of white light that had just pierced the skin between his eyebrows.

  Although it was hard for him to think straight, it was evident that the white energy had somehow transferred a mass of foreign memories into his mind. The superficial recollections dissipated with each passing second, leaving behind a massi
ve wealth of knowledge that Nolan could only vaguely access.

  It looks like these memories belonged to that old man. How is this even possible?

  Of all the memories, the ones that stuck out the most were those concerning the stone slab, specifically each of the poses that the stele had depicted. What’s more, his sudden understanding of every single stance also included the myriad of breathing patterns that they were paired with, which made him realize that he’d just learned an extremely complex sort of meditation.

  Am I going to be okay? He grew restless. All I can think about are those stances. He suddenly felt a strong temptation to imitate the movements that now stood out in his mind, which were undoubtedly the components of the core cultivation method that the aged voice had described. Should I try it? He looked around the field, his ears ringing in the silence. What the hell else was he going to do?

  Despite how alarming the recent development was, Nolan gave in to the unexplainable impulse and planted his feet firmly atop the cobbled stones of the pallid courtyard, extending both of his arms out in front of him with his hands spread wide. He began to trace patterns in the air while taking precariously timed and carefully plotted steps, and was surprised at the smooth fluidity with which he made the transitions between poses. Each stance bled into the next with natural ease, which reminded him of an old neighbour who used to do tai chi on his lawn each day at sunrise.

  As if he’d practiced it all his life, Nolan ran through the entire routine as it had been depicted on the stone slab, subconsciously altering his breathing patterns with each subsequent change in motion. As the time dragged on he couldn’t help but wonder when he had become so graceful.

  Since the glade was frozen in perpetual gloaming, Nolan couldn’t tell how many hours had passed when he finally stopped repeating the sequence of stances that had somehow shouldered their way to the top of his list of priorities.

  His body felt relaxed and his mind at ease, a profound sense of peace seeping throughout his limbs despite the fact that he’d just been force-fed someone else’s memories. The majority of the content was vague and elusive, an obvious presence at the back of his mind that stayed just out of reach whenever he tried for an examination. He had a strong sense that he needn’t be wary of the peculiar phenomenon that had been brought about by the stone slab, which was followed by its inexplicable destruction.