Awakening the Mare (Fall of Man Book 1) (4 page)

A competitor was the lowest honor of being
chosen. Pretty much you were handed your death sentence and it was
up to you and your skills on whether you would survive. A
competitor was entertainment and protection. After being trained,
the competitor fights battles in an arena against human
abominations, that was the entertainment part. The protection came
when Competitors were like soldiers, ready to battle the Savage
Sybaris.

The Sybaris, the once peaceful species that
ruled the Earth, were divided.

The bad and the worst.

The civilized and the Savages.

I looked forward to the day when the Savage
broke into the city of the civilized and tore them limb from
limb.

No one knew where the civilized Sybaris
lived, not even the Savages.

All this is what I’d surmised by what little
information I had been given.

I knew we feed them. Our blood flows for
their livelihood.

It was presented to us in a glorified manner
that if we are chosen, we are to feel honored. We provide for the
Sybaris, and in return, they provide for us.

Esperanza is proof of that. A sanctuary with
food, water, doctors, and no Savages.

Competitors not only fight the bad, they
fight for a spot in Utopia. After so many battles they are awarded
with passage there. A place they say is far away, safe from Sybaris
of all forms, a place that grows and is full of life that man can
appreciate. Sort of like throwing an ape back into a jungle, I was
told.

I believe it’s an island, surrounded by
water. If such a place exists, that is where I want to be.
Competitors also are not suppliers for the Sybaris. They are not
unending faucets of blood dripping into a glass.

Have a piece of fruit, tap into Vala, her
blood is a good year.

No way. That is not for me.

My thoughts had drifted and I missed most of
Sandra’s essay. The sudden round of applause snapped me out of my
daydream state.

We were almost done with school. We had the
test early in the day on Kings and Queens of the Ancients and after
that, really, there was no more to learn. Only preparation for
being chosen.

Iry told Sandra that she did a wonderful job.
He sat on the corner of his desk, leg swinging, laid back and
relaxed. His shoulder length hair was tucked behind his ear on one
side, his shirt slightly open. The girls stared at him; I just
didn’t see it.

Each day that passed, I hated that he became
more comfortable with us when in fact he was studying us, scouting
us, for his perfect long term meals.

“Vala?” Iry called. “Your turn.”

“For?”

“Your final essay on being chosen.”

I shook my head.

“Did you forget it?” he asked.

“No. I didn’t write one.”

“Was there a problem?” Iry questioned. “I can
give you more time. You need this to graduate.”

“Then I don’t graduate.”

“Vala,” he said softly, “why didn’t you write
one?”

“This essay was to be on why I want to be
chosen and why I should be chosen. Correct?”

“Correct.”

“Well, I don’t want to be chosen.”

As if I had said the most offensive thing,
the entire class gasped.

Iry held out his hand.

Sandra stood up. “What is your problem?”

“Sandra,” Iry warned. “Please.”

“No. Every day she comes in here and every
day she gets worse.”

“That’s because every day I get closer to the
selection process.”

“And you don’t want to be chosen?” Sandra
asked. “It’s an
honor
.”

“It’s insane.”

“What do you know?” she snapped.

“More than you. I’ve been out there. I was
old enough to see things. And there is a world out there,” I said.
“One we, as men, built.”

“Then go!” Sandra yelled. “You think this is
all bad? You are safe, you have food, medicine to make you well. If
you hate it so much here, leave. No one is making you stay.”

“Sandra!” Iry scolded.

Sandra shook her head. “No, Iry. She needs to
be told. We have been dealing with her decline for a while. Let her
go, let her leave Akana. Let her see what living among Savages is
like.”

“I have,” I said.

“Then if you have, you should stop acting as
if the Ancients are like them. You know.”

“I do. And the Ancients
are
like
them.”

Sandra’s eyes shifted to Iry.

“All Sybaris are alike, they look different,”
I said.

Sandra squealed and her hand shot to her
chest in a dramatic manner. “Iry, oh my Gods, she said the ‘S’
word. Do something!”

Again, calm, Iry held up his hand. “Class
dismissed.”

“We still have an hour,” Sandra said.

“Go home,” Iry instructed. “Class
dismissed.”

The students around me started to stand.
Sandra eyed me as she slowly walked by me. “I hope he recommends
you to the pen.”

I waited until she passed, then gathered my
things to leave with the others, but somehow I knew it was
coming.

“Not you, Vala.”

Silently I huffed, making a face that Iry
didn’t see.

“Wait.”

I wanted to scream, yell, snap ‘what now?’. I
didn’t. I waited until all the students had left the room, and Iry
walked to the door and closed it.

I placed my belongings on my desk, folded my
arms and waited.

His stench grew closer and then Iry stood
before me. “Step away from the desk.”

I took a step forward, my head hung low.

“Vala, I know you are confused. Look at
me.”

“Recommend me to the pen and I’ll run.”

“I know you will. Look at me.”

I lifted my head, exhaling in
frustration.

His eyes met mine.. His already huge pupils
widened. “I know well that you—”

“Don’t waste your time.”

“Excuse me?”

“It doesn’t work on me.”

“I’m… I’m sorry. What are you talking
about?”

“That thing that all Sy—I mean Ancients do.
You’re staring at me. Trying to get into my mind. Get me under
control.”

He laughed in ridicule.

“Don’t laugh. Try it.” I opened my eyes wide
and stared at him.

His pupils retracted.

“It doesn’t work on me. Nito has tried
several times. Others too. Doesn’t work. I don’t know why. Now if
that will be all…”

Iry reached out and gently grabbed my arm. It
was the first time he ever laid a hand on me. His touch was
cold.

Then I saw a look on his face that I didn’t
expect. He quickly pulled his hand from me and inched back, almost
in a state of shock.

I couldn’t determine if he looked in awe of
me or frightened.

“Unbelievable,” he whispered.

“What? I told you it didn’t work on me.”

“Not that. I only heard stories, but never
encountered one until now.” He tilted his head and squinted his
eyes. “Do you not know?”

“Know what?”

“Vala,” he said. “You’re… you’re a Mare.”

“What is a Mare?”

I had been walking a distance from Iry. He’d
asked me to join him in a walk so he could speak to me. We moved
beyond the school to the tree lined area. The only reason I went
was to find out why he, like Nito, called me this.

Apparently it was something the Sybaris knew
and we humans did not.

“Before I tell you, because you obviously do
not know the term, I—”

“Oh I know the term. Nito has called me that
for as long as I can remember.”

He cocked back with a lock of shock. “She
knows?”

“Of course, if she calls me that.”

“This is important. Has any other Ancient
touched you?”

“What is a Mare?”

“Have they?”

“Not that I know of.”

“This is good.”

“Iry, what is this? Are you going to tell me
soon? Because I have horses to check on.”

“The myth says that a Mare is not born, they
are made. I believe you cannot instill such a thing unless one is
born that way. Have you been told any tales at all about your
birth?”

“Other than being born in a truck and having
my afterbirth be a diversion?”

He shook his head. “A story that says someone
placed a blessing on you?”

I hesitated, because that actually sounded
familiar. My mother had told me about an old woman who placed a
special prayer over me because, in essence, I had spared the camp.
I looked up at Iry. “That would be magic and there is no such
thing.”

“I agree. But on the chance magic works, did
someone?”

“I heard a story, yes. Does it make a
difference?”

“It depends. Some say it makes you stronger
to be born that way. But I’m certain you have not come into your
full abilities or you would know.”

“You’re talking in circles, Iry.”

“You are only the second Mare I have met in
my lifetime.”

“How do you know for sure I am one, then,
since you’ve only met one?”

“Two things. You complain of my scent. When
did you start to pick it up?”

“This year.”

He nodded. “That will cease once you learn to
control it. The other way I know… is when I touched you.”

“Did I burn you?”

Iry laughed. “Hardly, you jolted me with an
immediate sense of feeling good. Like a medicine or the wine your
adults drink.”

“That’s disturbing. So, as a Mare, I make Sy…
I mean Ancients feel good?”

“As a Mare, you are three things. A blessing,
a curse, and a weapon. Those who seek to destroy the Ancients will
seek to find you. Those who want to draw from you will seek to
choose you and keep you, and those who fear you, will kill
you.”

I laughed at the absurdity of what he was
saying. There was no magic, no tricks. How could I have this
ability, whatever it was? “I do nothing, Iry, honestly. I have no
special ability.”

“You will come into it very soon. When you
do, you must learn to control it. You will have the ability to do
many things. Move things, travel with your mind, and witness things
far away. Just... ” Iry pointed to his temple, “…be thinking it and
believing it. For example, if you wanted to hurt me, if you were
thinking that you wanted to kill me, then I touched you, the moment
my hand lay upon you, I would have been injured. Before you can do
that, you need to control it. It will come upon you quickly.”

“I understand why someone would fear me then,
if this is true. What can they draw from me?”

“An Ancient who is wise and knows what to do
with you can keep you safe, and draw from you slowly.”

“My blood,” I stated bluntly.

“Yes. Your energy will be shared with the
Ancient, until finally they are complete with you and may choose to
convert you to an Ancient.”

That made me shudder. “What if I don’t want
my blood to be used that way? If truly I can make my mind do
anything, then I could make my blood poison.”

Iry waved a finger back and forth. “Except
that. An Ancient that decides to kill you will drain you quickly
and completely, consuming your energy, making the Ancient strong.
And you ... " Iry reached for me again and I stepped back, “…you
will be transformed into what can be considered the most vicious
and vile abomination that man can become. You’ll thirst for blood
and flesh, kill without thinking or feeling.”

I shook my head and just as I wondered who
would do that to me, who would drain me quickly, I realized who.
“Nito.”

“Yes.” Iry nodded. “If she has known, then
she’s waiting for you to come into full ability. She’s going to
choose you.”

“To kill me.”

“To take all that you have.”

“What about my family?” I asked. “She has to
provide for them if I am chosen. That is Elder law.”

“Do you really think she’ll follow those
rules if you die?”

He was trying to scare me and it was working.
“I have to go.”

“Vala, many are going to choose you. If Nito
knows you are a Mare, then all Ancients know, and they will all
place a bid for you."

“I’ll run.”

“They’ll find you.”

“I’ll cross the water.”

“Unless you cross an ocean there is no
way.”

“I’ll find a device that floats on water,
something, I won’t be chosen.”

“You will be. You are a Mare. They will hunt
you down and take you.”

“Stop!” My hands shot to my ears. “Why are
you doing this? Why are you telling me this?”

“Because when you are chosen, I need you to
pick me. Let me choose you, Vala.” He stepped toward me. “Choosing
me is the only way you will not die. Trust me.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t.”

I moved further back, spun as fast as I
could, and started to run.

“Vala! Do not expose yourself. It will be the
end of all you know.”

As much as I didn’t want to hear what he had
to say, his words stayed with me, in my heart and in my mind.

I sought solitude in the stables after
speaking with Iry. Casey, my horse, waited in his stall. A
thoroughbred horse, I was told, one that in the previous world
would have ran races and won. He moved swiftly and seamlessly.

I loved the stables, and everyone had a
horse. It was our means of transportation from one town to the
next, where we would travel to trade. I suppose that was the reason
the Sybaris allowed us to have horses. That was the only thing that
made sense, since the Sybaris feared them.

After feeding Casey a snack, I slipped into
the stall and took a brush to his mane. He was beautiful, his coat
rich and brown.

Casey knew me like no other, and knew how I
rode. Many times I took him out to run and we’d make it to the next
town in less than an hour.

The stables helped me maintain my sanity, and
was the only place I could keep things I never wanted the Sybaris
or my mother to find.

One of them was my bag.

When I was young, several years after we
arrived in Akana, I was digging in the yard as many children do.
Not more than a foot down I hit something hard. I continued to dig
until I uncovered something metal the length of my forearm. It had
a handle and latches. Very clever.