From the cockpit of his brother's ship, Zain saw the deluge of raindrops beat like Ratamacue, but no bolts of lightning accompanied it. With each splash, Zain's anxiety grew. Would Zakk make it? Zain already knew the answer—yes. Each tournament's top prize wasn't solely a trophy. There was a monetary value as well, and Zakk had used the silver spells and golden bonds from his winnings to buy a hovercraft two years after Zain moved in. Before then, he had relied on Zain for transportation, and Zain obliged because of their friendship.
"This storm certainly brewed up out of nowhere," said Jamaal. "I wish I could get you closer."
Zain wished so as well, but he didn't want to push his brother too far. It had taken a lot of convincing to even get him to agree to take him. Jamaal was too analytical; Zain couldn't blame him. Jamaal needed to be in order to analyze every angle of senate policies and bills, but that kind of thinking wouldn't take Zain to Lake Kilmer. It was only when Zain pried apart Jamaal's past that he found a connection.
"What is the one thing you regret in your life the most?"
Jamaal exhaled. "Zain, don't go there. Don't bring her up."
"How can I not? Guardian of the Core can do anything—"
"No one can bring back the dead, Zain. No one can reverse the past. You need to move on, and stop continuing to live in your dreams."
"The problem is when you don't live your dreams. What if there is a way to bring her back? What if I can finally get this . . . this . . . guilt off of me?"
"It was an accident."
"And one that I still live with every single day. Sometimes I can still feel her fingers slipping through mine. . . ." Zain turned around. He needed to convince his brother. In deep contemplation, he exhaled.
"It was the middle of summer seven years back when Reine and I were strolling through a park with curved wooden bridges over a small stream. We were headed back from sitting on a plain and overlooking the archs of rainbows. The archs! It went up and over Boras, if you can imagine. Anyways, with the rainbow still in the air and the water sparkling more than ever, I thought it was the perfect moment to propose to her. The only problem was that I didn't have a ring. After that, after that date, I knew I wanted to be with her, so I called Dad, and he said he would make one. And he did. I carried it around with me all the time after that, waiting for the perfect moment, but it never came. The winds were especially brutal one cold day, so I let her put on my jacket, and she found the ring in there, ruining any chance I had at surprising her."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"You asked what my largest regret was. . . . We all have them, Zain . . . but we learn to live with them."
"But if you had a chance to make up for that, you wouldn't take it?"
His brother didn't have a comment after that besides, "Go get your things." And now, here they were, combating the elements as they tried to land. The alcove that his brother found was double the size of his ship, but in a storm like this, it still made it hard to land.
When the ship touched down, Zain was bounced around in his chair. He was thankful to be strapped into his seat. Jamaal opened the cargo ramp, and Zain proceeded to struggle to gather his things without falling backwards.
"How much longer do you have?"
"Half an hour. Should be enough time to get there."
"I hope you find whatever you're looking for."
I hope so too. "Thanks. . . ." Zain turned around but was stopped by his brother placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Mom has a right to know where you are."
He hadn't told Mom about his acceptance. She had been with him all through Ava's death, the hearings, the trials, and Zain never forgot the longest and hardest hug he received once the judge found him not guilty, but if his mom knew he was going to become apprentice to atone for her, she wouldn't have let him leave. She would have been even more stubborn than Jamaal saying that he already paid for his accident and shouldn't open up old wounds.
"Then tell her. . . ." Zain looked into his brother's hazel eyes.
"I will. . . . Make sure you answer your telecommunicator if she calls."
Zain searched for any signs of lenience but found none. Jamaal had shifted to acting like a father figure instead of a brother. "Bye."
"Good luck, Little Bear."
Zain grinned and gave his brother a hug. "Bye, Big Bear."
He turned around and exited the ship, facing the onslaught of rain and wind. The rain obscured most sound, but there was the faint sound of birds squawking their protest of the storm. Branches thrown aside and acorns and pine needles ripped from trees littered the floor. Even the thick canopy of trees failed to keep him dry. The smell of worms and fish stuck to his senses like sweat after a sparring lesson. Zain had always been told that when one sense fades, the others strengthen in order to compensate. With his vision reduced, he felt as if he could hear more. A faint crack in the air popped like knuckles on a hand. Zain looked around. No fallen branches.
As Zain reached the last set of trees that enclosed the small area of land before a white pier, he noticed Zakk standing halfway out onto that pier amongst the wind and rain, bags over each shoulder. The soft mud and the loud cracking of thunder covered the sound of his advance. Skiffs tied to the pier kept Zakk occupied as Zain continued to walk farther. Any minute now, the ship will be here.
As Zain's footsteps transitioned from mud to the whitewood boards, Zakk turned around.
"Zain."
Zain's neck tightened.
"What are you doing here?"
Zain reached into the inside pocket of his Gazo's uniform and pulled out a red envelope. "You weren't the only one who was accepted."
"Two warriors from the same school. What are the odds of that?"
Do you not think I am capable? Zain tried ignoring the comment as best he could. He looked out onto the lake, watching the ripples roar with intensity.
"Did you know when I was telling you?"
Zain nodded.
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"What was I supposed to say? That I was accepted too? I hadn't even opened the letter; I picked it up from my mailbox at Gazo's after my training session with Kendel and put it in my pocket. When I saw yours, I knew."
"Zain, you don't have to be jealous of me. . . ."
"My family gave you everything you have! Without me, you would be nothing!" Zain looked at Zakk, who had reserved himself to looking down at the dock.
"I . . . I . . . think you're wrong," Zakk said. He looked up and held Zain's glare. "Without me, you'd be nothing."
"How so?"
"I was the one who helped you pass your continuance exam when you couldn't figure out the order of combinations you had to block while blindfolded. I was the one who gave you purpose to even continue through Gazo's. I have always been the one pushing you. I'm not going to say, 'Sorry that I'm better than you.' I'm not—"
A low reverberating noise cut the air, the sound of continuous thunder. Except it wasn't thunder; it was the ship.
The ship's coming. Zain watched it descend. His fingers started to flex. His side started to ache as the scenario of Zakk beating him crossed his mind. Such a victory would ruin any hope he had of atoning Ava's death. Of finding some way to see her again.
"Why can't you ever just let me win? Always you have been there by my side, shoving the victories in my face."
Lower and lower the ship descended. It was almost at touchdown now.
"Zain, you're like a brother to me; of course I'm going to be by your side. We advance together. That's always how it has been."
Zain closed his eyes and shielded his face as water splashed up from the ship's landing. The deluge crashed upon them like a tidal wave on an island. Zain maintained his balance throughout and looked over at his friend who was doing the same.
"Not this time," Zain muttered. He heaved his shoulder into Zakk, forcing his friend to fall—with bags and sword—into the lake.
The pier shook as the ramp landed harshly on the rotted surface. Zain spun around and sprinted up as fast as his wet clothes would let him. Once inside, he threw his bags to the ground, sheathed his sword, and tried to walk to the pilot's area to demand its departure. The area was blocked with glass, so Zain pounded, but the pilot would not acknowledge him.
From inside his pocket, Zain pulled out the soaked telecard to see how much time remained. Less than a minute. Come on. Come on. Take off.
"Strap in and prepare for takeoff," a man's voice boomed through the cargo area's speakers.
Zain didn't listen. He dropped his bags, withdrew his sword, and watched as Zakk pulled himself up out of the water. Come on. Come on. Zakk sprinted toward the ramp. The ship started to take off, causing Zain's knees to buckle and lose a moment's readiness. The ship was in the air, the ramp slowly closing, and that is when he saw the last of Zakk.
Zain sheathed his sword and took a moment's breath. He looked up and saw a forearm make its way over the top of the ramp. Did Zakk make the jump? Zain crawled on his knees to the cusp of the cargo area; his body felt as if it would be sucked out. A set of fingertips struggled to gain traction. The ramp apparently sensed Zakk hanging from it and stopped. When at the cusp, Zain poked his head out. Zakk now dangled fifty feet above the lake's blue exterior. And that distance was increasing.
"Zain, help me up!"
Zain wanted to help. He knew he should help. Scenarios started reeling in his mind: Zakk coming on board and killing him for his near betrayal, Zakk showing off his skills during the Trials, Zakk winning and leaving Zain once again—behind and inferior. Zain extended his torso forward and gripped Zakk's wet forearm. Although Zain couldn't hear it from the roaring engine, he could see his friend's teeth chatter from the blowing wind and the cool water that soaked him. He looked down into the dirt-brown eyes of Zakk. They were soaked, sullen as the earth below. Zain couldn't see the helplessness in those eyes, only the choler that rose like hills and mountains from Zakk's pupils. Zain's hands shoveled under Zakk's forearms.
"I'm sorry. I can't." He couldn't say it. He mouthed it instead. But the intention was clear. His Hands pried apart Zakk's grip, his eyes watching as Zakk plummeted through the air. Zain had never seen such a look before . . . except once. A while ago. The look of pain, betrayal, fear—it was all there.
The ship's ramp proceeded to close. Chilled air vanished. Its absence, though, did little to soothe him.
Vapid breathing conveyed his sorrow. His side ached—enough for two this time. Daggers of guilt sliced through his intestines, forcing him to limp across the ship's interior over to a bench on the right side. What have I done? Water mixed with tears slid down his face, keeping him cool and vulnerable. What have I done? Zain sat like The Thinker of Pelopon, watching droplets crash on the floor below. Then as he looked up, he saw another body—a woman—seated upon another bench across the cargo area.
Three-inch black heels pecked the floor. Crossed legs subtly revealed a fuchsia garter, a dagger attached to it. The slit purple dress covered her body tightly, and her crossed arms accentuated her breasts. Her lips, pierced on the lower left side, smirked at him. A hand, weighed down by bracelets of varying colors, brushed brown bangs out of her familiar blue eyes.
"Well, Zain, zat was razer unbecoming."
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