Nandai Gendon

{Cale Stevens}1

We go by many names. We’re the Perpetuals, World Wanderers, Fruul Taris, The Sleepless, Rondir Ana, Boundless Ones, the Watchmen. Since the dawn of time we’ve wandered freely between parallel worlds ensuring the stability of the Balance. It’s said that we’re reincarnations of the five angels who lost their way in the light of the First Dawn, but the past has never interested me, and my origin may remain a secret forever for all I care.2

I was born in this universe, into a normal family with a hard-working father, a supportive mother and an affectionate little sister. But as far as I’m concerned, the world that witnessed my birth is not my home. From a young age, I knew I wasn’t like other people. I seemed to have the intelligence of an adult by the time I was three years old, not that I let anyone know that, and I cared little about the trivial daily struggles people faced and did my best to isolate myself from common society. What’s more, every night when my family went to sleep, I would lie in bed with my eyes closed and never lose consciousness. In my entire life, I have neither slept nor dreamed.3

The first time I Shifted into a parallel universe was when I was four, and I revelled in my new-found freedom. In order to keep my existence from fading I must spend adequate time in my Birth World, but I take every opportunity to Shift into another. The best time for this is when everyone else is asleep.4

My real life begins at night.5

Chapter 16

Murder7

In a small, desolate country that might once have been France, the full moon hid behind a cloud and a shadow descended upon the crystal palace. There was nothing but dirt and dry, sick-looking shrubs for miles around, but it simply made the palace seem even more magnificent. Made entirely from opaque blue crystal, it shone like a gem in the middle of the dull plains. Inside the palace, each room was more beautiful than the last, and in the very heart of the structure on a pile of huge cushions covered with red satin sheets, Samiel Thesieur lay dying. Alone.8

He tried to raise his hand but it proved to be too much effort, so he concentrated on forming one word instead. “Henya…” he rasped. A young woman materialised by his side with a sympathetic smile. Her brown hair hung about her shoulders and she wore a plain green dress, but she had a humble sort of beauty and a kind air.9

“Do you need something, Samiel?” she asked gently. 10

“You keep disappearing,” the feeble old man grumbled into his beard.11

“You are weakening,” Henya softly replied. “I may not be here for much longer.”12

“You will stay,” he insisted, catching her gaze with his own. Slowly, she nodded. But her eyes were sad.13

The dreadfully familiar sound of tearing material indicated that someone had just Shifted into the room. Begrudgingly, Samiel turned his head in the direction that Henya was looking. It was the little boy who had learned to Shift only a few months ago. He was an arrogant brat. “Cale Rondir Ana,” he rasped, feeling the scowl form on his face. “What are you doing in my palace? You can rest assured, I am dying. Can’t you wait for the inevitable?”14

“Samiel Jhem Ana,” the boy smiled calmly in his strange foreign accent. “Relax. I simply wish to be here when you die.”15

If the old man wasn’t so tired, the fatigue so deep in his bones, he would have scrambled to his feet and shown the insolent child what the word ‘punishment’ meant. Jhem Ana translated as, ‘Lost One.’ Hopeless one. Pathetic one. It was the most severe insult one could give; especially to Samiel. The man growled without moving from where he lay. “I am still a Watchman, boy, and I am greater than you. Your height doesn’t reach my hip. You’re just a baby, still learning how to fly.”16

“Then why was it so easy for me to evade your wards and Shift directly into your bedchamber?” Cale pointed out. “If I’m new to flight, I’m a fast learner. As for my short stature, this is because I’m only four and a half years old, and I hope you’ve noticed that right now you’re your height doesn’t reach my hip. Where are your Dreams, Samiel?”17

The man frowned. “It doesn’t matter where the rest of them are. I can still maintain Henya’s existence.”18

Cale laughed lightly and crossed his arms, cocking his head to one side. “She faded not long after I arrived; you must have lost concentration.” 19

Samiel gasped, his wide eyes seeing something far away. “No. Not my last Dream.”20

“Can you resummon her?” the boy prompted.21

Just to check that Cale wasn’t lying, Samiel turned his head back around to see the crystal floor where the woman had been kneeling. She truly was gone. It seemed such a short time ago when Samiel was the most powerful Watchman. Perhaps over the past few years he had tricked himself into believing he was still so strong. Now he had nothing. He could barely move, and he knew that if he tried to summon Henya again it would consume the last of his strength. Two fat tears rolled from his bloodshot eyes and into his beard. He blinked angrily until he was sure that no more would come before turning his head back to his unwelcome guest. “You’re trying to make me die faster,” he said.22

Cale crouched down beside him. “Is that really such a bad thing?” he murmured.23

Samiel considered this. Would it be so bad? If he was so miserable now, wouldn’t it be nice to start again? Be reborn in the body of another? Another, more interesting thought then crossed his mind as he stared up at the little boy. Wouldn’t it be nice if he could force Cale Stevens into premature reincarnation with the last of his strength? Take the brat with him?24

Finally, he nodded. He closed his eyes, preparing himself for the sudden action he was about to take. When he opened them again, Cale was still there by his side, waiting for him to die. He opened his mouth as if to utter Henya’s name and suddenly flung his arms up, striking like a snake, gripping the boy by the neck. Cale made some sort of gurgling sound before raising his hands to grab Samiel’s gnarled wrists. 25

The old man screamed in agony as Cale’s touch burned him, but he held onto the boy’s neck with a steel grip until the burning sensation was joined by a sudden jolt of electricity, and then Samiel immediately went limp.26

Cale gasped, touching his throat gingerly. “Ow,” he coughed. But he didn’t have time to dwell on his injury. With a bit of effort, he dragged Samiel’s body over to a clear part of the room and arranged him so that his hands were clasped over his heart and his legs were straight and together. He then pulled ten wooden cubes precisely two centimetres tall out of his pockets and carefully placed them in a circle around the body. He quickly checked the placement of each of them and the angle they were facing, hoping he’d got it right. If something was out of place, this wouldn’t work.27

Standing on the outside of the circle by the cube above Samiel’s head, Cale closed his eyes and let the foreign words come to him. They were surprisingly simple, and Cale could hear the translation in his head as he spoke. “Samiel Thesieur Rondir Ana, has your spirit moved on?”28

There was a long, silent moment that made the boy briefly wonder if he had failed. But something lit up on the other side of his eyelids and he knew that Samiel’s eyes had opened, revealing the light of death. Any living behind who looked into the unguarded eyes of the dead would be lost to the other side forever. Cale kept his eyes firmly closed. “Samiel Thesieur Rondir Ana, are you reborn?” He waited patiently for the answer.29

The voice was that of a million voices, in different tones and clashing pitches, yet it was still one voice in a cold whisper that sent a chill down Cale’s spine. “Yes.”30

The boy’s heart beat faster. “What do you see?” he demanded. 31

No answer.32

“Samiel Thesieur Rondir Ana, what can you see?” he repeated in a rush.33

A million voices took a deep breath and replied, “Snow… From one horizon to the next… Snow and ice… White… Cold.”34

Cale could barely contain his excitement. This meant that Samiel had been reborn near one of the poles of one of the parallel worlds. Perhaps Cale could find the place Samiel was born and kill him before he could grow strong again. Then he could do it again and again, with all of the Watchmen, until he was the only one left able to Shift at any given time. He would be the most powerful being in the world! “Samiel Thesieur Rondir Ana, can you see the sun?” he questioned, quivering with excitement.35

“…Yes,” the voice answered. So it was the South Pole! The South Pole saw the sun at this time of year, but not the North Pole. But, how could…? Cale’s heart sank. Even if he knew exactly where Samiel’s spirit had gone, if he didn’t know which parallel world he was in, he could probably never find him. But perhaps if… What kind of answer would he get if…?36

“Samiel Thesieur Rondir Ana,” Cale breathed. “Where… are you?”37

The voices hissed and wailed in unison in one terrible scream, sending a sharp pain into the boy’s ears. “There is no answer for this question,” they babbled, “there is no word for this place in any language, there is no way to describe this place, but…” Cale gritted his teeth as the noise grew louder and jabbed at his brain incessantly, forcing himself to keep his eyes closed. Suddenly, to his relief, the voice silenced and let out a soft sigh. “I am partly in life and partly in death,” it murmured. “But this is the wrong answer. There is no description, no words, no answer, no…”38

“Samiel Thesieur Rondir Ana, thankyou,” Cale interrupted quickly. “You need not hold onto this body any longer. I free you.” As if he had simply blown out a candle, the presence in the room disappeared along with the light. Cale cautiously opened his eyes. The body had not moved, though there were no longer any eyes in Samiel’s sockets. The ten wooden cubes glowed dimly, and the boy thought it might be best if he not touch them until they returned to normal.39

Realising that his throat was still aching, Cale coughed slightly and the movement made his knees collapse beneath him. He was left weak; almost as weak as Samiel was just before death, no doubt. Silently, he cursed his feeble little body. He would have to become stronger, much stronger, if he were to be the last Watchman.40