The Judge Page 11

Faint birdcalls echoed along the dense wall of trees. The leaf canopy blocked out all of the sun’s rays, bathing everything in darkness. However, there was one tiny spot in the forest where sunlight was able to penetrate: it was the crash site of a shuttle.

  After breaking through the atmosphere, Sorren had reversed his thrusters at maximum power to negate the momentum. The final result was a relatively safe landing; despite the heavy damage to the hull, the interior of the ship was intact.

  The jerky ride caused blood to rush to his head. Sorren kicked open the shuttle door, staggered out and toppled to the ground. Grimacing, he crawled into the dusky shade of the trees. The darkness felt good—incredibly good. He slouched against a tree trunk, gripping his temple. While resting there, he felt a surge of life return to his body. He examined his shuttle. The impact wasn’t too severe. The canopy was sturdy enough to break the fall. The systems were operational, but it would still require extensive repair before it could fly again.

  He faced a dilemma. The black ship they had encountered was quite adamant about not wanting them to land on the planet. He had an idea about who those assailants were; and if he was right about them, the mercenaries were most likely all dead by now. His pursuers would undoubtedly try to track him down. And a shuttle on a primitive planet such as this one would stick out like a sore thumb. Time was of the essence. If he wanted to erase any traces of his position, he’d have to do it now.

  Without hesitation, he walked into his cockpit and initiated the self-destruct sequence. The only thing he needed was his sword; everything else was unnecessary. Unlike electronics, a sword was not easily detectable, and with it he’d be able to defend himself. Sorren snatched up his sword, slid into its scabbard, and tied it along his back with a rope.

  Sorren fled from his shuttle. As the loud explosion shook the forest, causing billows of smoke to flow outward, he ducked and fell to the dirt. He looked back at the gray smoke in the forest. His shuttle was gone, blown apart into dust. With his shuttle turned to scrap, no one would be able to find him. While this may have saved him from an unwanted encounter, this also meant he had no way off the planet or any method of communication.

  The situation did not disturb him, however. He did not panic or despair. If anything, he felt indifferent to the ordeal. Whether he lived or died, whether he returned or not, none of that really mattered to him.

  A cool breeze ran across the forest, howling and whistling through the trees. Sorren could feel its gentle touch tingling the hairs on his skin. He breathed it in deep, filling up his lungs, and could smell the fresh scent of grass. He walked in the direction of the wind, hoping it would be the fastest route out of this forest.

  The tops of the trees truly made it difficult for light to spread into the forest. There were several cracks in the canopy that let a few rays slip through, however it was not enough to allow the growth of grass and other lowly vegetation on the forest floor.

  While it was normal for vegetation to be stifled in this environment, he found it disturbing that the forest was quiet. After all, any forest with a moderate climate should be teeming with life. When he had first entered the forest, he had noticed several noises, but as time went on, he heard less and less of the birds and bugs.

  As an assassin, his senses were sharp; he would normally notice even the slightest movement of a bird that flew above. But in this forest it seemed like nothing moved. A forest devoid of life seemed impossible to him, so his next thought was that there could be a deceptive air. Something could be confusing his senses. A bit of worry strained his face because he’d be unable to avoid danger without his heightened senses to guide him.

  Sorren kept on walking, but the forest continued with no visible end in sight. He passed by broken tree branches and brushed aside the thick black vines that hovered over the ground. Sorren followed a straight path, and even if he had to walk across rivers, giant rock formations, or even deep chasms, he would not stray from it. For the straight path, while difficult to tread, was the easiest way to avoid getting lost.

  Hours passed and a concern became deeply rooted in him. At first he believed his senses were not functioning properly, but now he knew there had to be more to all of this. Every log and stream he examined was not abounding with small creatures, as he would have expected it to be. Maybe his senses were fine after all, and his inability to sense animated life was because there was none—or because they had left in a hurry.

  Then, out of the blue, he could feel a slight presence hiding from him, almost playfully. It shifted places erratically, disappearing and reappearing all over; Sorren could not pinpoint which direction it was coming from. Sorren played it calmly and acted as he had before, trying not to draw attention to himself. He feared that the presence was watching his every move. Though his face did not show it, his thumping heart was in a state of anxious anticipation.

  Sorren stumbled after taking a step. On bended knee, he held the palm of his hand to his forehead and closed his eyes. His head throbbed painfully. His breathing was sporadic. He had been perfectly fine just a moment ago, so he wondered what was happening to him.

  Sorren got up and made his way to a nearby stream. He lifted his hood and dunked his face into the stream; the cool rush of water eased the pain. Sputtering, Sorren wiped away the water from his mouth and gazed at his reflection. Though he had naturally white hair, his face looked young. He turned away from the clear waters as a glare blinded his green eyes.

  When he turned back to look upon his reflection again, it was no longer his own. A familiar face appeared over the surface, a face he never thought he’d ever see again. Sorren’s face darkened and, in haste, he thrust his hand through the stream, splitting the face in half; the image was distorted with ripples and waves. He simply disregarded it as a trick of his mind. Then, ignoring it completely, he cupped water in his hands and washed his face.

  “Taking your time, I see.”

  The voice startled Sorren. He spun around to find someone standing behind him. It was the same face he had seen in the water. The man was young and had short, but thick brown hair. His visage was full of vitality and his clothes gleamed like lucent silver. He smiled gently at Sorren, and Sorren bowed before him.

  “Is that really you?” asked Sorren skeptically.

  “Of course,” said the mysterious man. “See, I am what you have made me into.”

  “What do you mean?” Sorren looked puzzled.

  “I’m hurt,” the man said. “Look at what has happened to me.” All of a sudden many bloody scars were rapidly cut upon his face until he was no longer recognizable. “You were the one who did this,” he said softly.

  “I-I didn’t,” stammered Sorren. “I didn’t do anything!” Sorren fell with his face to ground. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to.” Tears flowed from his eyes and moistened the dirt below. Even though Sorren turned his eyes away from the man, the image of the scarred face was burned into his mind. Sorren slammed his fist against the ground.

  “Oh, then why do you still…”

  Sorren looked up and the man was gone.

  “Where did you go?” Wiping the tears off his face, Sorren stood up and ran past the trees, searching for the man. There was a small clearing in the forest and Sorren examined it. In the middle of the clearing was a stone well—a peculiar sight considering there was no cabin or encampment around.

  Something about the well beckoned to him and he could hear a calling, though it was not in the form of a voice. He drew near to it and peered inside, only to find another face that he recognized. This time the reflection was of a man dressed in golden armor, wielding a sword of light. He glared at Sorren and grinned mockingly at Sorren’s surprise.

  Sorren’s sadness instantly turned to hatred. Drawing his blade from its sheath, he furiously stabbed the surface of the water. He gripped the top of his head as the pain in his forehead became increasingly stronger. Staring into the well, a vivid image flashed in his eyes: a deceptive light, emerging
from the darkness, gathered the hundreds of lesser lights in the sky and lit up the infinite space with its brilliance. The headache left him.

  The memories of the past were things that he had intentionally forgotten. But why did those harsh and painful memories return now? The man he hated no longer roamed the surface. There was nothing for him to worry about, he thought.

  Sorren stared at his own reflection in the water for a little while and then turned to leave. But the moment he shifted away his attention from the well, he could feel slight vibrations coming from the water. His instincts drove him to try to escape a lunge from behind. He was not fast enough and was knocked into a tree.

  He lifted his head to get a good look at what had managed to land a fierce blow upon his unprotected back. It was a sea serpent! Or to be more precise, it was a serpent of the well. Regardless of what it should be called, the reptilian monstrosity was there before Sorren; the beast eyed Sorren and insatiably licked its lips with its forked tongue. The creature had a slender body like a snake and it towered over Sorren, stretching its long neck nearly twenty feet high; it arched over, looking intently at its prey. Its skin was covered with masterfully sculpted scales, which were tightly woven across the flesh of its body in a colorful pattern of blue, red and green.

  The overgrown water snake got ready for another lunge; a wide grin spread across its face, revealing its large fangs. Sorren took a stance, wielding his blade. The snake lashed out with a loud snap, trying to catch Sorren in its jaw. Sorren barely managed to escape from its clasp, but once again bounced off painfully from the impact.

  His body sprawled on the grass, Sorren panted for air. Though his body was in the present, his mind was stuck in the past. The pain and sadness of the past burdened his heart.

  Are you going to let yourself die here? A voice spoke into his mind. You’ve killed serpents before! How can you be so weak now?

  “It is all my fault,” Sorren murmured, delirious. “I’ve failed him.”

  You are a fool. I had noticed it when we first set foot into this wretched forest. The air is poisoned and so is your mind. That man would never blame you. Do not listen to the wicked lies of the serpent! It only seeks to leave you distraught, so you will be as defenseless as you are now.

  Sorren gasped, “Will I die a worthy death?”

  In its jaws, you will not even die a dog’s death, scum.

  “What do you mean by that?” asked Sorren angrily.

  A dog will at least die for its master. But you—since you gave up so easily—are a disgrace. You are worse than the scum of the earth.

  “I can’t help it! I’m useless…”

  I suppose I can help you. The voice snickered. Your mind is heavy. Let me lighten things up a bit. I will only leave the memories you need. But since I haven’t done this before, I am not aware of the side effects. Beware. It could be fatal.

  Sorren’s eyes opened wide. His mind was open and clear. No longer did he regret the past or worry about the future. He got up, dusted himself off and took up his sword. The serpent tried to strike him again, but before it reached him, Sorren vanished, leaving only a wisp of darkness.

  Fear struck the serpent like an iron rod against its skull. Terrified, it quickly tried to retreat back inside the well. But before the serpent could pull his head back under the water, Sorren reappeared behind the serpent and, with one earth-shattering slash, severed the serpent’s neck. The upper half of the serpent’s body fell limply to the ground, while the rest of the body dropped down the stone well and never resurfaced.

  Sorren looked over the well in silence. After a short period, two men jumped down from the trees and approached Sorren. Both of them wore very plain tunics and simple sandals.

  The man on the left was large, strongly built, and carried a giant club. He was for the most part bald, though he did have a few short strands of hair that he did not bother to deal with. His face had this dumbfounded look. The other man was terribly short and thin, and he also appeared a bit silly because his head was somewhat pointy. He held in his hand a large but elegant scythe.

  “Welcome,” they said, as they bowed down before him, “it is a pleasant surprise to see you here.”

  Sorren cocked his head. “Who are you? Do I know you?”

  The men looked at Sorren strangely, surprised by his question.

  “I suppose not,” said the smaller one. “You may call me Windzer.” He pointed to the burley fellow. “This big guy here is Hortmel. He doesn’t like to talk much, so if you have any questions, please ask me. Since the path is quite dangerous, we’ll be your escorts to the capital.”

  “Capital? How far is this capital?”

  “With our rides,” Windzer replied, “the trip shouldn’t take more than several days.”

  “Rides?” Sorren looked around but saw nothing that they would be able to ride.

  Suddenly, massive vibrations came from the earth. Sorren wondered what was going on. The earth cracked and split open. Something large jumped into view. Out of the dust rose several giant bird-like creatures. Their heads resembled an eagle’s head, their beaks looked powerful enough to crush rocks, and the yellow feathers on their backs were soft and sleek, glistening with an amber glow. Unlike an average bird, however, it had four legs instead of two. The monster, short and plumpish, crept close to the ground.

  “What are they?” Sorren asked.

  “We call these monsters Kajins. They’re tamed so just hop on,” said Windzer.

  Sorren mounted the Kajin and it let out a gleeful cry. It jumped around playfully, forcing Sorren to hold on. The Kajin romped around the stone well until Windzer patted it on the head to calm it down.

  “Sorry about that,” Windzer apologized. “He’s a playful one.” Sorren stared at Windzer, exhausted from holding on.

  When all three of them were on the Kajins, the birds let out a shriek. With their huge talons clawing at the ground, they dashed away, breaking down tree trunks as they ran. They galloped onto the plains, leaving the forest behind in their wake. The majestic Kajins zipped along with incredible speed, keeping in line with each other.

  “Why were you expecting me?” Sorren shouted because the galloping was quite loud. “Are you with the mercenaries?”

  Windzer thought for a second. “No, we work as law enforcement on this world. We saw several bright lights fall from the sky, so we came to investigate.”

  “Several bright lights? How many did you see?”

  “I can’t say for sure. I’d say about six or seven.”

  “Six or seven?” Sorren became quiet, wondering if the mercenaries had survived or if his pursuers were hot on his trail.

  Daybreak. The sun rose from the east and the sunlight dispersed its rays all across the surface of the southern plains. A morning wind forced its way through the six-feet tall grass and caused drops of dew to go rolling down the sides, like toddlers on slides. Sorren and his escorts proceeded along a dirt path that cut through the grassy plains. After several long hours of traveling, Sorren could understand why they would need rides to traverse the land. Aside from the complications of walking through tall grass, the land was rocky and rough, making it difficult to cross on foot. They stopped at the entrance to a long canyon near the desert valley.

  Windzer turned to Hortmel. “Are you sure we’re at the right place?”

  Hortmel pulled out a map from his tunic and took a minute to study it. He scratched his cheek, looking rather confused. “I’m not sure. Something’s not right.”

  “Let me see that.” Windzer grabbed the map and looked at it. His eyes wandered back and forth from the map to the landscape. “Doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Is there a problem?” asked Sorren.

  “According to the map, this canyon shouldn’t be here,” Windzer replied, showing the map to Sorren. “I suppose this map is a bit old.”

  “There’s no other way across?” Sorren glumly gazed at the treacherous terrain.

  The canyon was fairly large and
had a strange appearance. It looked like two smaller canyons were put side-to-side to form one big canyon. The center of the canyon had a long but thin bridge of land that ran straight across. The bottom looked safe. There was only a small stream of murky water. But climbing down and up the canyon walls would be terribly difficult because the incline was almost completely vertical.

  Sorren glanced around. A dense forest covered the sides. The trees were so closely knit that they almost appeared to be hugging. “What about going around?”

  “No can do.” Windzer shook his head. “The way that forest looks is no illusion. The trees there are no more than a foot apart from each other. It’s a very tight squeeze.”

  “What about the Kajins? Maybe we cut through the forest or fly across.”

  “They’re land birds. Can’t fly,” explained Windzer. “Asking them to cut through the forest is too much, even for them. They’d be too tired to move after an hour of trying to break down such a thick forest.” He then pointed to the strip of land in the center of the canyon. “If we just walk along that land bridge it should be no problem. The other end looks far, but we should be able to cross over by sunset.”

  After looking at the bridge, Sorren said, “It’s too small for the Kajins.”

  “That’s fine,” said Windzer. “We’ll leave the birds here. It won’t be much farther until we reach the desert anyway and Kajins hate arid regions. They get dehydrated quite easily.”

  The three of them walked across the strip of land slowly. Although it was wide enough to have them walk across one by one, the ground felt unstable. Sorren’s foot slipped, causing a few rocks to fall into the deep chasm. He peered over the canyon and was surprised by what he saw.

  “There’s so little running water down there,” said Sorren. “What could have caused a canyon like this to form?”

  “I’m not sure myself,” Windzer replied. “Probably one strong flood cut through it. Could happen. Lots of crazy things happen around here.”

  A loud screech reverberated off the canyon walls. Sorren was at the front of the line and couldn’t turn back to see what was going on. Windzer, standing at the back of the line, looked behind. The Kajins were minding their own business, nibbling happily on tree bark.

  “False alarm.”

  But Sorren noticed the sound coming from different directions. The abrupt noises sounded like they were getting closer and closer. His concern prompted him to look up.

  “What’s that?”

  Giant flying lizards soared above. The red reptiles had thin beaks and long, leather wings. Though they were lizards, they also had a distinct black mane on the back of the neck. These lizards let out a shrill screech that made everyone cover their ears.

  “Nothing to worry about,” said Windzer. “Zortzels. Common beasts.”

  Despite his confident reply, it was difficult for them to move properly on the land bridge. They fumbled around with their weapons, swaying in an effort to maintain their balance. Falling would not be pretty, for the plummet would be of several thousand feet. Before they could get into a defensive position, two lizards dove straight at their backs and clamped onto Windzer and Hortmel with their massive claws. The two men vehemently resisted being caught in their clutches, but the strength of the claws restrained all movement. In a swift gliding motion, the lizards swooped off the ground, taking the men high into the sky.

  Disappearing from view, Windzer shouted, “Don’t worry about us. Go on ahead!”

  Sorren wasn’t fazed by the pronounced sense of urgency. The thought of falling all the way to the pit of the canyon made him hesitant to pick up the pace. More screeching rang through Sorren’s ears, and he braced himself, expecting to be attacked by more of those odd flying lizards. Nothing happened. Sorren turned back and found it was the Kajins that were screeching this time. The Kajins galloped in circles, screeching at the top of their lungs. Sorren wondered what had their feathers all ruffled.

  The canyon walls shook back and forth, forming rockslides all over. The savage trembling showed no signs of stopping. Sorren hugged the ground. Boulders came tumbling down to the left and right of him. Even the land bridge started to crumble. Realizing he’d fall if he didn’t make a break for it, he ran as fast as he could across the thin strip of earth. With the canyon in an uncontainable convulsion, it looked as though everything would collapse.

  The canyon suddenly burst apart. A massive creature emerged from the rubble. It resembled an earthworm—except its size was absolutely mind-boggling. Nothing around them was left intact as the gargantuan worm tore through the earth, engulfing whole mountains of rock with its insatiable appetite. The worm was as large as the canyon itself, nearly several thousand feet high. It didn’t have eyes on its head, but it didn’t need any because of the hundreds of feelers and grooves across its skin that acted as its sensory receptors. Its mouth stayed open as it traveled; Sorren could see that the inside was lined with several hundred layers of tiny teeth, too innumerable to count. The layers of teeth just rotated over and over, continuously breaking down and consuming everything in its path.

  Watching the situation fall apart, Sorren began to doubt the credibility of his escorts. It was quite apparent that this worm had created such an odd-looking canyon in the first place. A worm of this immense size would be hard to overlook and was bound to create hundreds of canyons over its lifetime. How could Windzer have overlooked this?

  In the midst of the ensuing chaos, Sorren didn’t have time to think about anything else, but instead he tried to stay standing to the best of his ability. However, he helplessly lost his footing when all of the earth under his feet gave way.

  The worm swerved randomly through the canyon while feeding. It was not targeting anyone. It was merely following its daily routine of digging through the soil, looking for nutrients to fill its appetite. Sorren and the others were like ants, too insignificant to be noticed.

  The larger conglomerate mass of boulders disintegrated into a sea of rocks, and Sorren fell into its tumultuous waves. He swam through the rolling dirt with all his might, trying to force his way up because, unlike swimming in an ocean of water, he would not float. A giant wave of the worm’s excrement came crashing down. He narrowly escaped it.

  After the worm had finished accumulating a sufficient intake, it disappeared back into the bowels of the earth and flicked its tail contently as it left. The old canyon was gone and a newly formed canyon had replaced it. From the hole where the worm left came a loud rumbling. A flood of water flowed out. Sorren, completely exhausted from his ordeal, could not move. He gritted his teeth, bracing for the impact. Whoosh! Then the rushing stream carried him away.

  Meanwhile, Hortmel, still caught in the claws of one of the flying lizards, swung his club aimlessly and, by a stroke of luck, managed to land a single blow on the Zortzel’s leg. The reptile, whimpering in pain, released him from its grasp. Before Hortmel started to fall, he quickly grabbed onto its leg and climbed up its back. The Zortzel banked side to side, attempting to shake off Hortmel with sharp, speedy maneuvers. Hortmel remained steadfast in his grip and would not let go. He acquired control over the reptile by taking hold of the mane on its scaly neck and using it to steer the lizard in whichever direction he desired.

  Hortmel drew close to Windzer and smashed his club against the other lizard’s skull. The Zortzel let out a shriek. Freed from the grip of the claws, Windzer also followed Hortmel’s lead and hopped onto the back of his own Zortzel. He drew his scythe forward. With a snap of his wrist, he straightened out the blade, turning his scythe into a spear. The head of his spear glowed; Windzer struck it into the lizard’s spine.

  “Give it another hit!” Windzer shouted to Hortmel.

  Hortmel closed in on the Zortzel and struck the body of the lizard with an explosive blow. The violent assault on the Zortzel forced it to let out a weak cry. It could no longer fly straight and dove toward the ground as it was losing consciousness.

  “I am now your master,” Windzer w
hispered into its unsuspecting ear. “You will obey all my words. In return, you may have a fraction of my spirit.”

  Windzer twisted the spear like he was twisting a key, and a yellow glow surged from his hands, through the spear and into the body of the lizard. A spark of energy flowed through the veins of the Zortzel and spread through all parts of its body, revitalizing it instantly. The lizard, now feeling vigorous, easily glided out of the near fatal drop and hovered over the rubble, taking flight once again. Windzer pointed down to a safe spot. “Land over there.”

  The lizard screeched in reply and flew down. Hortmel was already standing on solid ground and waved back to Windzer. Once Windzer landed, he told the Zortzel to stay put.

  “Do you think he’s still alive?” Hortmel asked, staring at the running water.

  “I sure hope so,” said Windzer, motioning to him. “Come on, let’s go for a swim.”