An old woman stood up in the crowd. “That’s right, Finn. Tell them, that they might see,” she shouted.
A young man next to her jerked her down as the arena erupted in equal shouts of agreement and shouts of anger.
Finn lifted his chin slightly at the newfound support. “And Amanda, why couldn’t we have just waited to see if she would recover? I don’t want someone to put me down every time I get a cold,” he joked.
Cries went out all over the teeming arena. “It’s not a cold.”
“She’s evil!”
“No one knows.” “The Ancients do!”
“What are the Ancients, your Kings and Queens, your rulers? No, no one rules over us. Every single one of them was once no more than a Healer, the same as you and me.” Finn couldn’t stop himself from shouting. He quickly turned to the five Ancients towering above him. “We are Healers. We govern ourselves. You haven’t the right to put death on us,” he bellowed. A bright flash of light burst to life at these words. He had no time to react to the bolt of energy that ripped through his chest, burning a hole in his heart. His lifeless body staggered, muscles twitching involuntarily, making him look like a haunting marionette before finally hitting the ground.
The crowd of Healers burst into horrified screams as they gazed at the dead body of Finn, a man who had been a friend to all of them.
The tallest Ancient closed his eyes and waved his disjointed hand across the room. Everything went silent as men and women fell back into chairs, and those who were standing in protest, crumpled to the floor.
The tallest and male leader of the Ancients rubbed his eyes
with sharp fingers and spoke to the others mentally. “Calm down. They are asleep. It was the easiest spell to cast,” Baal said as he looked at the four other beings who had shared such a long life with him. A perfect life.
He knew none were as powerful as they were together, and he worried about what would happen next. This was uncharted territory. The Healers had always been so obedient. They’d catered to his every whim for centuries. Shiphra started all of this upheaval. It had been boiling just under the surface for seven decades.
Baal glided slowly over to Finn’s crumpled form. He turned the thin body over and caressed his still-warm cheek gently. Baal took the sweet old face in his palms and began pressing his hands together, crunching bones and twisting skin until the distorted face was no longer recognizable. He should have killed her when he had the chance.
A blast of energy rippled through him, turning the man in his hands into a pile of ashes. Delia’s voice echoed in his head. “Stop whining about Shiphra. We have more pressing matters to take care of. And was it really necessary to kill him in front of everyone?” Delia asked boldly. She was the only one that would address him so casually.
“What do you think? Should I have let him continue to warp the minds of our sheep? No, it had to be done. Now we just have to clean up the mess.”
Delia’s mind wheeled with options for the other four to see. “So which shall it be? He attacked us, Finn never showed up to this meeting, or the usual ‘he never existed’ route?” she asked. Baal began to think of Shiphra again but Delia stopped him. “You know we don’t have the power to erase the memory of a fellow Ancient so why tire yourself with these thoughts? Now decide which it is,” she said, her inner voice full of boredom.
Baal was tired of the trivial matter of covering up one life, so he waved the responsibility off to Heisle.
He was never entrusted with decisions, so he was quite excited for the opportunity that had been presented, despite the circumstances. His inner voice was high and unsure, very unlike the others. “Well, not all of the Healers who knew Finn were at this meeting. So it’s a waste of energy to wipe his memory from these few.” He gestured around the room of hundreds of sleeping Healers. “And all who knew Finn would never believe him to attack. So it would take far too much energy to alter so many minds so greatly, maybe even drain us completely until we are little dried up—”
“I don’t want you to explain your little theories! I’m not interested. Just deal with it, so that I don’t have to,” Baal shouted internally.
Not one person in two and a half centuries understood why Heisle had been chosen to become an Ancient, not even him.
“I can’t remember the last time Heisle spoke. I think it’s been decades. I forgot how ridiculously small his voice is.” Delia laughed.
Heisle moved away as the other Ancients went back into the company of their own minds, walking around the arena twice to make sure he felt every soul. Once certain he had all of them at his fingertips, he went to the center of the arena. Standing tall and stretching his arms out wide, he felt the Healers’ life, their vigor, and dreams. Heisle let each of them flow into his consciousness.
This exercise was necessary to build energy before a large spell, but it did the opposite for Heisle. Each dream was a goal he could never obtain. Each life was fuller than his own. He glanced back at the four Ancients towering in the massive dome, completely aloof to the corpse lying still at their feet.
His energy drained from him, and he allowed it to flow out of his feet. Heisle was happy that he at least had the privacy of his mind when he wanted to have it. An Ancient could pick the mind of even the strongest Healer with some effort, but not another Ancient. Probably one of the reasons Shiphra got away. A pain ran through him at the thought of her being somewhere out there free of the worry he had on his shoulders.
Heisle was so tired of being scared, so tired of this life. Poor Finn, poor… all of them really, he thought, looking out at the crowd. At least Finn’s woes had ended. He feared theirs were just beginning.
A thought occurred to him as he was attempting to figure out the best way to erase what had just happened. Heisle could be free from them. No longer having to be silent, no longer having to serve a tyrant.
He collected his thoughts and tied a tether to each unique mind, connecting all to him. Heisle thought of the instant that the blast of energy collided into Finn. Heisle memorized the expression on the poor Healer’s face, the burning of his flesh, the fierce expression on Baal’s face. It felt strange to him when his dry
lips stretched up at the corners. He hadn’t smiled in such a very long time.
They won’t be able to reverse this. They won’t be able to pretend it didn’t happen. Not without doing something none of them are willing to do.
He drew in a deep breath, letting their individual scents roll into him. Heisle pulled in all of his energy, everything that he was, everything he had in him. Just before releasing it, he thought of Shiphra’s smiling face. With his guard down, all of the Ancients would be able to see what was coming, but it would be too late to stop him.
Bright bursts of energy were flying between Heisle and the stadium full of Healers. A thin cord of light linked them to him. Heisle twitched, and, like a heart monitor, light began to slowly beat down the strings. A slow steady pulse flew down hundreds of threads.
Heisle burned the images into the back of his eyelids and sent it down to them. Healers all around the room began to wake up in terror, women and men shouted in surprise and fury.
Delia moved forward, but Baal stopped her.
“He’s giving all for this spell. I already tried to stop him, but it would drain me of my life. There’s nothing we can do now.”
Heisle arched back unnaturally but managed to stay upright, standing only on the balls of his feet, his muscles locking up.
The beat of light accelerated Finn’s face, and Baal’s smirk.
With a loud snap, Heisle’s left arm folded up into his shoulder, followed by his right. The beat of light quickened still.
Heisle’s mouth tore open wide as if to scream, but no sound escaped. His skin dried up and pulled away from his open mouth. The pulsating quickened further. His once large form began shrinking, bones crumpling as if he were in a trash compacter. He coughed to clear his throat, and dust escaped from the place his lips should have been. The pulsing light bounced off the scrambling crowd, breaking all movement into a disjointed slideshow.
The unfortunate people in the large room cried as the images bore into their minds and imprinted themselves there. Heisle’s dry tongue inexplicably formed words that rose above the uproar and silenced the stampeding crowd.
“Shiphra!” He coughed up another cloud of dust that was highlighted by a beam of light. “Shiphra is still out
