Tempest Reborn

‘Don’t hit her, you git,’ Hiral said with a snarl. He liked us, too, although he was loath to admit he liked anyone. In fact, he was bleeding inside at the loss of Blondie. She had been one of the only living creatures to abide the little gwyllion, and he found it hard to imagine a future without her friendship.



The part of them that was Jane marveled at the creature’s omniscient viewpoint, even as she shrank away from Hiral’s pain. She had enough of her own…



But the creature was there, helping her lapse back into memory…



When they came to again, they were lying in a room. A goblin was flashing a light in their eyes, like a human doctor would. Finally, he sat back, shaking his head.



‘There’s nothing physically wrong with her. She’s in a traumatic fugue state – totally disassociated. You are aware of her medical history?’ The goblin spoke with a lovely accent Jane couldn’t recognize, but even as she questioned it, the creature supplied the answer – Irish, Dublin, upper class.



‘No, we’re not aware of her medical history.’ It was Griffin again. His voice might be smooth to a human ear, but underneath his calm tone lurked annoyance.



‘Well, she’s gone doolally before, and under similar circumstances.’



‘Doolally?’ Griffin’s voice was dry. ‘Is that the technical term?’



The goblin winced, as if remembering to whom he was talking.



‘Sorry, sir. I meant she’s had a psychotic break once before, and been committed.’



‘Great. She’s been like this for a week. Our champion is a lunatic as well as a halfling.’



There was a time that comment would have amused both the creature and Jane greatly, but now they felt nothing.



The goblin, however, was not amused.



‘She’s no lunatic, sir. She’s traumatized. She suffered an initial experience of loss as a young woman, in which a loved one died. Now this experience mirrors that one, only with two loved ones, one of whom died and one of whom became, excuse me, a great bloody dragon. Her mind needs time to process, to heal itself.’



When Griffin finally spoke, his always-cold tones had dropped into arctic temperatures.



‘Remember your place, goblin. Healer or no, you can be replaced.’



The goblin’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped in air.



‘And this “trauma victim”, as you call her, is our champion. She is the only one who can kill the monsters that will, at any moment, recommence ravaging our lands. We need her on her feet and ready to fight. Is that understood?’



‘Yes, sir.’ The goblin’s voice was quiet.



We stopped listening at that point, in favor of our memories spinning before us like dangling sweets.



Anyan was calling for us, and we were trying to answer. His voice was weak, as if shouted through layers and layers of thick cotton, but we ached to respond.



That’s when the mage balls started hitting our shields.



We opened our eyes, unimpressed to find Griffin lobbing missiles at us in a bid to get our attention. Behind him, a spitting, struggling Hiral was held by two goblin guards. Magog and Gog stood to one side, looking uncomfortable.



‘There you are,’ the Alfar said, his voice irritated.



We blinked at him, our only response.



‘You do not seem to understand the enormity of this situation,’ the Alfar said. ‘You are the champion, and you have been playing this game of yours for two weeks now. We can no longer indulge your little strop.’



Our ire rose at his words.



‘The Red and the White have been spotted,’ Griffin continued, his gaze locked on ours. ‘Our reprieve is nearly over. They will attack soon, be sure of that. And we need our champion.’



We did not respond.



Griffin took a step closer, his face now inches from ours. ‘Look, halfling. Your bedmate is dead. He is the White now, and therefore our enemy. He must be destroyed, and unfortunately, we have to rely on you to help us. But if we attack now, we have a chance.’



Jane’s fear grew inside us, but we soothed her. Griffin continued.



‘The Red and the White are still weak, still recovering. We can send in our best forces – immobilize them for you. All you need do is strike the killing blow. Even a halfling can do that, no?’



We thought over what the Alfar had said. We conversed.



What if he’s right? asked Jane. What if Anyan’s gone?



[Do you believe that?] asked the creature.



No. No I don’t. But what are our options?



[We don’t know our options yet, child. We haven’t had time to think.]



No. We haven’t. But you do think there are options?



Jane’s voice was so sad, so scared, that we suddenly understood one simple fact.



We realized there must be another option, for to kill Anyan was unthinkable.



[Yes,] the creature said. [There are options. There are always options.]



For the first time since Blondie fell and Anyan was flung onto the White’s bones, we felt something other than despair. The tiniest glimmer of hope built within us, and we nurtured it as we would a flame. Jane grasped on to that hope, and she made a decision.



She was grateful for the creature’s intervention, but now she had work to do.



I need to be me again, Jane said.



[Are you sure?] the creature asked.



Yes, I think so. I appreciate what you did for me, though.



[Nonsense,] the creature said. [You helped me as much, or more, than I helped you.]



And then it withdrew, its ancient power that had cocooned me and kept me together through these last, turbulent days withdrawing. It didn’t leave entirely, and I knew that it wouldn’t until this whole affair was over.



But I was Jane again. And I wasn’t doolally, at least not entirely, or not yet. I could feel an edge there, however. A hard edge, a desperate edge – one that scared me. I knew I could run over that edge without even seeing it in the darkness.



But right now I had to find us some options.



When I raised my eyes to Griffin’s, he knew something had changed.



‘Hi, Griffin,’ I said, knowing that both the creature and I would be okay. I could still feel it, inside me, and I knew it wouldn’t leave me and that it would continue to comfort me, and that I’d reciprocate. But I had to be me again, for both our sakes.



I was the champion, after all.



‘We’ve noted your concerns. The problem is that you haven’t given us any time. And we’re tired of your methods.’



I went ahead and continued using the royal ‘we’, since I knew that in this matter, the creature and I were partners.



‘The fact is that we’ve spent too much time letting other people work for us, or tell us what to do, or guide us. Now it’s time for us to guide ourselves. We’re taking control of this little operation. And we’re doing it our way.’



Then I looked over to where Gog, Magog, and Hiral had all taken a step forward.



‘You wanna come with?’ I asked, feeling the creature warm at the thought. My friends, for they had become my friends, nodded.



The creature took us home.



Chapter Two



‘Jane?’ shouted my dad’s hoarse voice, right before his arms wrapped around me.



For a split second, at seeing my father, my grief nearly overwhelmed me. A ragged sound came from my throat and I felt tears burning down my cheeks.



I also realized it was the first time I’d actually cried over what happened. So I let myself.



My dad led me upstairs, to Anyan’s loft bedroom, as I sobbed. He sat me on Anyan’s bed and held me till I cried myself out. Then he held out a clean handkerchief he’d dug out of his pocket. I used it to wipe my face up, noticing that I could smell Anyan all around us. That nearly made me cry again, but I choked it down.



‘Is it true?’ he asked finally.



I nodded.



‘Blondie’s dead,’ I said. ‘And Anyan’s been turned into a monster.’



‘What are you going to do?’



‘I don’t know, Dad. I really don’t. Blondie and Anyan were always the ones who led. They had all the answers.’



‘Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it?’ my dad said. I looked up at him. His now healthy, pink complexion still looked a bit foreign to me, but the rest of him was so achingly familiar and safe after all the chaos of the past months. A few days unshaven, his craggy features were handsome, and his salt-and-pepper hair thick.



‘What’s obvious?’ I asked, my voice small. Like everyone, he probably thought I had to kill Anyan. Maybe I did have to kill Anyan.



‘You’ve got to get him back, Jane. You’ve got to find a way to fix this and get Anyan back.’



I looked at him, tears welling in my eyes. It was what I’d been longing to hear since I first saw Anyan’s beautiful gray eyes gone green, but somewhere deep down I thought I was crazy for hoping.



‘I do?’



‘Of course. And I know you can. We have to figure it out. We’ll all help, of course.’



I smiled then, having never thought I’d smile again. It was refreshing to be wrong.



‘You’ll all help. And we’ll figure it out,’ I repeated, more for myself than for him. The words felt fragile in my mouth, but once they were uttered, they grew in strength.