Capture and Choice

Chapter 6
Part 1 - Capture

My hands are numb from being raised over my head for hours. Wood from the house itself had grown outward, holding our arms and legs in place. The Danar warriors created these bindings. Just like when they captured us, they controlled the jungle, sending out vines to tie us up. We tried to explain that we were lost. That we fled from the Mir.
The intimidating, massive Danar told us that we had to go with them, or die. So we complied, and they brought us here blindfolded.

“Why do you always act like this? You should have run like I told you…” Dima bickers with Elda. They are on either side of me, with me caught in the middle.

“What do you mean? Why didn’t we all run then? I’m not a coward!” Elda bickers back.

I have been listening to them fight since we got here, their arguments going in circles. Thirsty and my head hurting, I can’t understand how they still have the energy.

“Please stop fighting… We’re going to be okay, let’s try to talk to them,” I try to convince them.

“Sure, they seem really open to chat…” Dima says back with a worried tone.

All three of us are quiet. Dima is right, we have no idea what they are going to do. Maybe I should have fought back. But with that Danar man there, my instincts told me that it was a bad idea.

“At least they didn’t kill us yet,” Dima says, trying to be positive.

“Yet…” Elda says back.

With the sun coming up and light pouring into the wooden house, the big Danar man appears. Just like the first time, my senses alert me of his presence. His dark gaze has such calm behind it, telling me he is different from the rest. Dangerous, but there is more to it.

Holding a cloth sack, he walks up to us one by one, pouring water into our parched mouths. We all huff and cough from our dry throats.

He then sits on the ground in front of us. Dima breaks the silence:

“Why didn’t you kill us?”

“Because you are children,” the man answers.

“I’m not a ki…” Elda starts to protest, before I interrupt her:

“What’s your name?” I ask.

The man looks me in the eye with a softened expression and answers:
“My name is Rayon.”

“This is Elda and this is Dima. I do not remember my own name. We escaped from a Mir town, after I freed them from slavers. We don’t wish you any harm,” I try to explain.

“Yes, we were just trying to get to Baiin territory,” Dima continues.

“I understand. But I am not the one to decide your fate alone,” the man answers.

“Who does?” Dima asks.

“My people decide together, whatever the decision, we all follow,” he answers, then stands and speaks again:

“You will know by sunset,” turning around to walk out.

“Wait!” I shout, making him stop.

“How did you hide like that? I mean… at the stream, before you showed yourself to us,” I ask him, making him look at me from the sunlit opening.

“The jungle lives, and we with it,” he answers vaguely and walks away.

“So we just wait here until they maybe let us go?” Elda asks me with doubt.

Some time has passed and we’re all anxious. Arguing about what we should do.

“I’m telling you, I just think we can trust him. I get a feeling that he wants us to live,” I argue back.

“Feeling? Did you feel the same way when he told us it wasn’t up to him?” she argues sarcastically.

I sigh. Then we both turn our necks to Dima.

“What?” he says looking confused.

“What should we do?” Elda asks him.

“Wha-why are you asking me?” he asks abruptly.

“It just feels like you should decide,” I say to him.

“Yeah, I “feel” the same,” Elda says, hinting something more.

“Fine!” Dima eventually agrees and sighs.

“I think we should make a run for it. Better than leaving our fates up to people we don’t know… sorry man,” Dima tells us and apologizes to me.

“No, it’s okay. Whatever we do, I want us to do it together,” I say, looking at them both.

“So… how do we get out of these things?” Elda asks while looking at the hard wood around our wrists.

I think about what the man had told me. That the jungle lives. It resonated with me. Ever since coming to this world, living, eating and sleeping in the wild as my home. I’ve been connected to it. Every tree, plant, even grass and stone is alive. Only quieter, lighter. I can sense its presence, connected to its warmth.

I close my eyes. Concentrating on the wood against my skin. Breathing deep and slow.

“Um… what are you doing?” Elda asks skeptically, watching me.

“Just let him, Elda,” Dima says, his tone skeptical too.

A few minutes pass. The wood’s warmth grows stronger, I can almost visualise it in front of me. I can feel my body warming slightly, like I’m borrowing the heat. Energy flows to my muscles, across the markings on my body. I get stronger, the wood weaker. I open my eyes, both Dima and Elda are staring at me from each side. Their mouths open and eyebrows raised. My markings are glowing with dim fiery light. With a snap of my wrist, the wood cracks open. The siblings, still locked in their stare, eventually snap out of it. Just like mine did, their bindings crack easily.

“That’s convenient,” Elda says, rolling her wrists.

Part 2 - Choice

We leave in a hurry. Luckily there aren't any guards around, or anyone as a matter of fact. Coming out of the wooden house, I see a city at a distance. A city at the top of the humongous trees, stretching far and wide. Houses, stairs and hanging roads. Danars walk and talk with each other, tiny like ants from here. They’ve put us on the outskirts, maybe because they didn’t want us among the people. They probably assumed that we couldn’t escape. Either way, it’s lucky.

“You okay?” I ask Dima quietly, while we are climbing down the tree.

“Yes! I’m fine,” he whispers intensely back.

Once on the ground, I look back at the city in the trees. It’s astounding.

“Let’s go! Now!” Elda tells me, snapping me out of the mesmerizing view.

Back to the jungle floor, we tread through the harsh terrain once again. We’re already drenched in sweat and huffing for air. None of us has eaten since before we were captured, and our stomachs growl in protest. Especially Elda’s.

“Should we stop to find food?” she asks with little energy in her voice.

“I don’t think we can yet,” I tell her, sensing something stirring where we came from.

“I smell something,” Dima says. He heads to a green plant with long, narrow leaves. Pulling it down, Dima picks a red, hairy, oval-shaped fruit hidden in the leaves.

“It’s Geniva, I think. They are edible, but apparently very sour,” Dima says, smelling the fruit.

“Yes. Give me one,” Elda desperately says.

“Here. You too,” Dima says while throwing the fruit to us.

I look at it, having bad memories again. I try, trusting Dima. It’s edible, very sour.

Getting further away, I no longer feel the presence of the Danar. More relaxed but still exhausted, we keep moving.

“Stop,” I say.

The others stop and Dima looks at me and asks:
“What is it?”

In the direction we’re heading comes a vicious smell—one I recognize.

Elda and Dima start to pick up on it.

“Is that… blood?” Elda asks, sniffing the air.

We all look in the direction that it’s coming from. My brain is firing signals of danger.

Dima breaks the silence:

“Let’s go another way.” He starts walking away. Both me and Elda stay.

“But… I think I hear children… crying,” I say.

“No. No way. We just escaped death for the second time, and now you wanna walk towards it again? I don’t wanna put Elda in danger,” Dima walks back to me and says with worry in his eyes.

“Me?” Elda asks Dima angrily.

“Or us. Whatever. It’s a bad idea,” Dima tries to convince us.

“Well I’m gonna go. I’m not gonna leave kids to die,” Elda says, running towards it.

“Elda please!” Dima shouts desperately after her.

“Sorry Dima, I’m going too. I have to,” I say, grabbing his shoulder, then start running.

“Dammit,” Dima says in frustration, then follows.

We hide behind the broad leaves and watch them. Five Mirs.

All dressed in ragged clothes and armor, intimidatingly vicious eyes. One stands in front of the others, scars all over his face and neck. A muscular, furious-looking man.

On the ground in front of him, there is a beautiful long-haired Danar woman and two Danar children hiding behind her. She and the children are crying. She is bleeding from a deep cut on her arm, breathing heavily like she’s been running for her life.

Towering over the woman, the man speaks:
“Don’t make this so hard. We told you we won’t hurt the kids if you just come with us,” he says with a disgusting smile on his face.

I clench my fists and bite down. The anger stirs in my chest. I’ve only ever felt like this when I saw the slave action, or when I saw memories of my Ara. My eyes tear up in frustration, just as I’m about to charge him. Dima grabs my shoulder.

“Wait,” he tells me, looking me in the eyes, with tears of anger coming out of his.

“We gotta distra…” Dima begins to say.

Before he could finish, Elda jumps out in the open. Launches toward the man with the scars. She’s fast, faster than I’ve ever seen her.

“Ahh!” She screams.

The man turns his neck, only to have Elda's fist smashed into it. He flies back, with blood trailing.

Dima and I move.

The other Mir men look confused, not computing what’s happening. Distracted, me and Dima sneak behind them. I sweep the leg of one and hammer-fist his nose on the way down. Dima smashes two of their heads together, making a loud thud. We both move to the last one standing. The Mir slices his hand towards me, shouting:
“You little!”

I dodge to the side, the wind-slash slicing up the dirt next to me. Dima jumps on the Mir's back, about to drive his elbow into his head. The Mir throws him off and he hits the ground, gasping on impact. Slicing down, the Mir is about to hit Dima below. I tackle him down, the wind goes right above Dima. I grab his arm as we fall, then headbutt him, crushing his nose.

Elda is carrying the woman. Dima and I grab a kid each. We run for the hills, but don’t get far before I look back. The scarred Mir is back up, pushing both fists towards us.
“Watch ou…!” I start to scream. But the wide force of wind blows us away.

I roll around, hitting my head and body hard on the ground. Coughing, body aching, I lay there:
“Khhuk!” I retch.

Blood is filling my mouth.

I put my hands down, trying to get up. Something pushes me down hard. The scarred Mir has his foot on my neck.

“AHH!” I hear Elda scream in a desperate charge.

The Mir claps his hands toward her, making wind push together violently.

It crushes the air with a loud thump, and Dima tackles his sister away just in time.

He raises his hand, then starts to slice down toward my neck.
I see nothing. Hear nothing. Silent. The only thing on my mind is my Ara. Sitting at the end of a table, smiling at me.

Blood gushes down from above. The pressure on my numb neck gets lighter. Glancing up, with my vision blurry, I see a sharp bloody branch stick through the scarred Mir’s chest. The last thing I see is his body drop.