...And Shot Down

When I arrived in the jail cell, I was still furious and sad and confused and more at the things Liah had said. I sat down on the stool so hard that it made echoes in the small space. Shemman looked at Jepha, who shrugged helplessly. The older boy looked back at me and cleared his throat. “Um, Rakel. Is something bothering you?”

“No.” I crossed my arms.

“…Are you sure?” I didn’t want to lie to him, so I kept silent. He seemed to take that as assent. “Would you like to talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about. And I don’t want to talk about it.”

Jepha interjected “that makes no sense—” but his older brother cut him off. “In that case, would you like me to talk? It might make you feel better.” Catching a glance at my glare, he said “um, even better than you feel now! Which is obviously good.”

Listening to Shemman sounded like a nice distraction. “Go ahead.”

“Certainly.” He paused. “What would you like to talk about?”

“I don’t care. Anything.”

“All right.” He paused, as if thinking. “A story from my people?”

“Sure.”

Shemman cleared his throat then began speaking with a lilting cadence, like he was speaking to the beat of an unheard drum. “Long ago, the Aijalon lived in the land given to us by the One Who Is. But we were a small people, an the nations around us were mighty.

“There was a wicked king of a neighboring nation who hated our people. Every year, he sent his armies to invade. But our people were mighty warriors, and every year, we beat them back.” Japha began gently drumming his hands on his legs along to the rhythm of the story. “One year, the wicked king took council with his wise men. ‘How can I destroy the Aijalon? They are mighty warriors, blessed by the One.’ One by one, his advisors could not give an answer, until the very last one.

“The last advisor, Nhaal son of Nyoor, spoke and said ‘oh king, the Aijalon have the blessing of the One. To destroy them, you must bring the wrath of the One down upon them.’ ‘And how may I do that?” asked the king. ‘Oh king,’ said Nhaal, son of Nyoor, a wise and mighty soothsayer, ‘perhaps Nhaal can curse your enemies.’” Shemman stopped. “Um, our scholars don’t think Nhaal was actually a mage. His alleged powers don’t match any magic we’ve recorded. In fact, it’s not clear if mages even existed during the time of this story.” His earnest desire for me to understand all the context was so cute it made me laugh. Shemman colored slightly and said “just thought you should know.

“Anyway, the king gave Nhaal son of Nyoor a sack of gold, and promised more should he succeed in cursing the Aijalon. So Nhaal saddled his donkey and set on his way.

On the road to the Aijalon, he met a wise old woman. ‘Sir, where are you going?’ she asked. ‘I go to curse the Aijalon,” Nhaal answered. ‘You must turn back,’ said the wise woman. ‘Danger lies on your path.’ But Nhaal ignored her and continued on his way.

Further down the road, Nhaal encountered a small boy. ‘Sir, where are you going?’ he asked. ‘I go to curse the Aijalon,” Nhaal answered. ‘You must turn back,’ said the boy. ‘Danger lies on your path.’ But Nhaal ignored her and continued on his way.

“Still further down the road, Nhaal’s donkey sat down and refused to go further. Angered, Nhaal began beating his donkey. The donkey said ‘Master, why must you go this way?’ ‘I must go to curse the Aijalon,’ Nhaal answered. ‘Master,’ the donkey replied, ‘the One Who Is has shown me that he protects the Aijalon. He has put danger in your path. Turn back that you might be saved.’ But Nhaal would not be dissuaded. With one final kick at the donkey, he continued on the road on foot.

“But on the road, just before he entered the land of the Aijalon, Nhaal was set upon by bandits. They beat him and killed him, taking the sack of gold and throwing his body into a ditch.”

Shemman stopped talking. I said “that’s it?”

“That’s it.”

I burst out laughing. “Sorry. It’s just…a talking donkey?” He smiled and shrugged. Still laughing, I asked “so what was the point of that story, anyway?”

Jepha chimed in “yeah, brother, I’d always wondered that too.”

Shemman spread his hands helplessly. “Brother, you know I was never good at theology.” Addressing me, he confessed “I would train so hard during combat exercises that I’d usually fall asleep during theology and history lessons. My, our master used to get so mad…” he trailed off with a wistful look in his eyes before seeming to come to himself. “Right, the point. Um, perhaps the point is to teach how the One Who Is has always protected our people? Or perhaps is that when the One put warnings in our way, we should listen?”

I said “no, I got the message. My question was, why did you tell it to me? Right now?”

“Oh, that’s easy,” he said brightly. “I wanted to cheer you up.” He smiled.

Ah…that smile. I realized now how much time I spent thinking about it. Unbidden, something Liah had said just a few moments came back. My feelings toward Shemman.

Liah had accused those feelings of being shallow and fake. Maybe she was right. And even if she wasn’t these feelings were going to cause trouble. My relationship with my father was already strained; I had no idea how he would respond if I flat-out told him how I felt about Shemman. Anyway, Shemman and I would part ways soon. He’d go back to this life among the Aijalon, while I’d stay with the mages. In a moment of horror, I realized that we might end up fighting each other some day. With all that in mind, it would be far better to keep a distance from him, right?

Screw that. Granny said I was going to be a leader of our people someday. How could I do that if I couldn’t even confront my own feelings?

I said “Shemman.” My tone must have alerted him that this was serious, because he matched my seriousness when he said “yes?” I paused, swallowed, and said “you know, you’ll be leaving this place soon.”

“Yes, I am aware.” Jepha also nodded enthusiastically.

Oh, geez. Was I going to say this in front of Shemman’s little brother, too? Well, so be it. I wasn’t going to back down now. I plowed forward. “So before you leave, I, um, wanted to tell you, um…” I felt my face flushing so hot I thought it must be lit up like a beacon in the dim room. “I wanted, er, that is, to say to me, no I mean me to you, erk—”

“Easy,” Shemman said with an encouraging smile. “Take your time. Breathe.” As if to demonstrate, he deeply inhaled, then exhaled. I followed his example—breathe in, then out. Then again. Shemman said “ready?”

I nodded. “Before you leave, I wanted to tell you that—I like you, Shemman. A lot.” I paused and added “romantically. If that wasn’t clear.”

There was a pause in the air. Japha gazed at me, clearly confused. Well, he was just a kid. But Shemman…his face was unreadable.

After a moment that felt like it dragged for eternity, Shemman slowly said “despite everything, I am still an Aijalon warrior, and you are a mage. We cannot…I…” he seemed to resolve something in his head. “Rakel.”

“Yes?”

“Despite our challenging circumstances, I have come to treasure the bond we have forged. I shall always remember you. As a dear friend.”

It took a moment to sink in. But when it finally had, I said in monotone “oh. Yeah. I see.”

Japha chimed in “I’m Ms. Rakel’s friend too!” I barely heard him.

I said “well, I need to go. I have a thing to do. Somewhere else. Bye.” I got up and began trudging toward the stairs.

“Rakel!” Shemman called out, but I didn’t stop. It was weird. It felt like some evil mage had used a spell to replace my heart with a hunk of lead.

At the top of the staircase, I saw Bekah sitting on the top stair, with my father standing beside her. Had they overheard the whole thing? Normally I’d be mortified at the thought, but somehow, I just didn’t care.

“Rakel—” my sister began, but she seemed lost for words. “That was rough,” she finally said. I nodded lifelessly.

My father, before saying anything, scooped me up in a big hug. “It will all be ok,” he softly said.

“I’m fine,” I lied.

He said nothing in response but kept his arms around me.

Funny. I thought I had spent all my tears earlier after the run-in with Liah, but now, I felt wetness trickling down my cheek.