The Key to the Warriors (completed)

Chapter 5

5

Charlie

Zirlic angled himself toward the far end of the field, where the hill sloped shorter and shorter until it melted into the soft grass of the battlefield. He pointed at the larger of the two tents, and I followed his gaze.

"That's the mess hall. Complete with most modern cookery, modern by your definition, of course."

"Of course." I agreed, barely able to comprehend everything I was seeing.

"The smaller tent is first aid. It's a bit more primeval in comparison but has enough equipment to treat most illness and injury."

I stared at the tent with curiosity. "Just... magically treat it? Or is there a doctor here?"

Zirlic shook his head. "Most of us can make basic sutures and bandage a wound, but Leo and I are as good of doctors as you'll find here."

Who was Leo? I didn't immediately ask. My gaze drifted to the structures with a jumble of emotions I couldn't reign in. This place just wasn't possible. It was one thing to daydream about a place better than home, it was something else entirely to step foot into it and have it be as real as the world beyond it. It was insane. I had to still be dreaming. A very vivid, possibly lucid dream, but a dream, nonetheless.

Zirlic sighed heavily and turned to face me fully. "I told you, it's not a dream, Creator. Unusual yes, especially by your scientific understanding, but it's not a dream."

I faced him with bewilderment as he watched me. "How... how did you...?"

"How did I know what you were thinking?"

I nodded and he shrugged. "You're the Creator. As I told you, here in Warrior Hold, you are God. Those of us in tune enough can almost always hear your thoughts."

Wonderful... I shuddered to think what else I could have been thinking up to that point. Zirlic startled me with a soft chuckle.

"Don't worry, I'm a gentleman. I'll try to keep out of thoughts that are private. Besides, once you get more familiar with the Immi and become more powerful, you can learn to effectively block us."

"What's the Immi?" I asked. "And do I dare ask how it can make me powerful?"

Zirlic pursed his lips a moment, as though considering how to explain, his eyes on something over my shoulder as he spoke. "Immi is the power that... controls us, for lack of a better term. It is the fuel behind everything you and I can do, and the ethereal clock that tells us when we have to leave."

Frowning, I folded my arms as I watched him. "What do you mean leave? Like... getting exiled?"

"No," Zirlic said as he met my eyes. "Like... dying." At that, my frown deepened, but I didn't interrupt as he continued. "For an Immi, when one gets too old or sick to contribute to Warrior Hold, then they are Released. If it's natural, it comes on slowly. No one knows when it'll happen, just that someday it will."

"But... where do you go? How do you know when it's begun?"

Zirlic shrugged. "I don't know where you go. No one does. There are a couple of theories, but nothing's been proven. And you know when it's begun when you no longer cast a reflection because the Immi power within you has faded."

"So, no one here can die? They just... move on in this Release?"

"No." He said again. "We can die. If you strike us with a sword, or a boulder falls on our head, we will die the same as anyone, only it's far less peaceful. If we are killed, the Immi within us— our souls, essentially— is destroyed. What happens beyond that, no one knows."