CHAPTER 3

REALITY SETS IN

We can decide not to play the game of life.

Just realize that it doesn’t matter.

Life will continue to go on with or without us…but rest assured that as long as we are indeed ‘alive’, life will include us, regardless of our choice.

You can take a break any time you like.

…but no one leaves the game alive.

Wendell came dashing down the winding staircase, taking five steps at a time. Gasping aloud, he flew into the main room of the cottage so fast he tripped over his own feet.

Bouncing off the side of the custom sofa, he spun about  and landed on his chest with a huge, “OOF!”

“Woah, kiddo,” cried Enid, jumping from his chair, “Where’s the fire?”

Elder Käshen also jumped to his feet.

A tall and rather awkward looking Iskari, Käshen had extra-pale blue skin, thinning hair, and big, round glasses which looked like they simply didn’t want to stay on his face. He was also dressed in what looked like a robe three sizes too big for him and had a double helping of robe about his waist to keep from tripping on the cloth.

Springing into action, he dashed around the coffee table, his limbs straining just to remain coordinated in movement.

“My Lord!” He grabbed one of Wendell’s arms in concern, “Are you alright?”

“Please, Käshen,” Wendell grunted, trying to suck in enough air to form his words, “don’t call me Lord. You know I hate that. Just…,” he coughed then, “call me Wendell.”

“Yes, Lord Wen—,” Käshen replied, then nodded, “I mean…no, I won’t. Call you Lord, I mean. Yes. That’s right. Because I certainly don’t want to make my Lord..I MEAN my…uh, Wendell uncomfortable.” He frowned at his own words, “Not that you’re MY Wendell, because that’s just silly. I didn’t mean…well, yes, that’s…what I meant, but not in that way… ”

“Oh, relax blueberry!” snorted Vin, his tongue sticking out as his character on the screen launched a triple spin-kick in the air against a street thug. The screen splattered with digital blood. “You’re among friends. We don’t care about formalities around here, right boys?”

“R-r-right,” smirked Doddle, coming up behind Vin’s character with his own mercenary, firing a machine-gun. The bullets flew over Vin’s martial arts master and blew the head of the end boss into pieces.

“Seriously?” Vin bellowed, throwing the controller to the floor. “I get him down by 6 million health and you have the gall to kill steal from me? You DOG! I’m the captain of this group!!”

“Y-y-you’re the slow one of the group,” smirked Doddle.

“Besides, we don’t care about formalities, remember?” chuckled Tabbermain. He gave Doddle a high five. “He saw an opportunity and took it, that’s all.”

“Y-y-yeah!” chided Doddle, wiggling his shoulders in a mini dance of victory. “BOO-yah!”

Wendell stood up, waving Käshen and Enid off, the smiley on his chest blinking as small white stars rotated around its head. “I’m alright,” he grunted, wiping the sweat from his brow with a palm. “I’m good.” He forced himself to stretch, gasping for another chest full of air. You’re okay now, Wendell. You’re safe. Keep it together. Waving off the Elder a second time, he turned to the techno-mägo, “You guys been up all night playing video games? Again??”

“No,” Enid cut in, “the Elder dropped by early this morning to give you a message, so we paused for a cup of coffee. Then we invited Käshen to wait until you got up. Morphiophelius said we shouldn’t disturb you. That you needed your sleep.”

Wendell sighed. Sleep? That’s a laugh. “That was very considerate. What’s the message?”

Seeing there was no need to worry, Käshen took a seat. He pondered for a moment, then adjusted the thick glasses over his nose. “The High Elder has called a meeting. He would like you to attend.”

Wendell shook his head, “I don’t think…”

“The Council knows you’re tired, lor…I mean…Wendell.” He gave a short, embarrassed bow, “But with you gone for months and great turmoil around the globe, it’s critical we discuss these matters with you.” He watched Wendell fidget in place, then added. “At least…consider attending.” He gave Wendell a weak, yet genuine smile, then softer, “I know you have been through much, and I don’t presume to understand. I don’t. Just…know that there are some decisions we, as a Council, are unwilling and unable to make without your direct participation and approval.”

Wendell looked up and nodded, “I’ll consider it.”

Käshen smiled brightly, “That is all we can ask.” He pointed to the TV screen, “Do…you mind of a stay and socialize with these good gentlemen?”

Vin looked up and snorted, “Who’s he calling good ?” With a flick of his fingers, the gnome sent his digital character sailing through the air, spin kicking the electronic enemies and sending them flying across the screen. “Do good guys do THAT!? HAH!” Tossing his paddle to the floor, Vin did a small victory dance, waving his arms in the air as he bounced around in a circle. “That’s it—high score! YEAH BABY!!”

Both Doddle and Tabbermain tossed their paddles aside and sank back into their chairs.

Wendell’s stomach grumbled.

The mini wall to the kitchen had been pulled back, allowing them to serve food into the family room, but no one was in there. He could, however, smell the bacon and sausages that had been cooked. A generous spread had been left across the kitchen table. “Where’s Chuck and Lili?”

“They went to check on Dax,” Enid replied, “The wizard wanted to meet with the High Elder—something about Dax’s mom showing up.” He motioned for Wendell to follow him. “You need some food.”

“I’m alright.”

“No…you’re not, Wendell. You’ve hardly eaten anything this whole week.” The old gnome gave Wendell’s shirt a tug. “Come on, son, even the smiley on your shirt is looking pale. Let’s get some food into that belly and talk.”

Wendell frowned. “Talk?”

“Yes,” the gnome replied, shooting Elder Käshen a glance. “A talk. You haven’t been yourself since we got here. You hardly eat, you’ve barely slept by the looks of it, and for all your talk about caring for your friend Dax, you haven’t left this house once to go see him. Why?”

The room felt uneasily silent.

“I just…,” Wendell started to say, but he froze. All eyes were on him.

It was a good question.

Wendell had intended to go visit Dax. In fact it was all he could think about for the first two days—but the Iskari were focused on stopping the degenerative effects of the poisons pumped into Dax’s system. The healers were working so hard, Wendell stayed away because he didn’t want to get in the way…and perhaps jeopardize Dax’s health further.

That was over two weeks ago. Wendell had yet to leave the confines of the cottage.

“…didn’t want to cause more confusion or problems,” was all he could think to say.

Enid nodded. The other gnomes went back to playing games. “Would you excuse us, Elder?”

Käshen gave a short bow. “Of course.”

Enid tugged on Wendell’s sleeve, pulling him towards the kitchen. “Get in here,” he said under his breath. Once inside, he shut both the door and the serving windows.

Motioning to a chair at the table, his tone sounded like that of a gruff parent. “Sit down.”

Wendell pulled out one of the chairs and plopped down, his eyes now working their way over the amazing spread of food. Breakfast was sounding better already.

“What’s up with you, Wendell?” Enid took a plate and put some food on it—pancakes, eggs, sausage—then slid it in front of the hero. “Something’s wrong and I’d like to know what it is. You’re not acting like the young man I first met and darn it…you’re worrying me.”

Wendell looked up to see red, moist eyes staring back.

“I’m not your father. I’m not even family, I get that. But I am your friend and you matter to me, son. What happens to you matters to me. You’re the closest thing I DO have to family now that we’re banished from Clockworks. So please…talk to me.”

For a minute or so, Wendell cut into the pancakes dry, just so he could put something into his mouth and chew. Not to eat, but to keep from talking.

Enid was good and kind, and had taken Wendell under his wing when he’d been thrown into the garbage chute. Literally thrown away like garbage.

He was patient, practical, and wasn’t one to jump to conclusions without asking a few questions on both sides. But  more than that, Enid was one of the key gnomes to keep hope alive. Was willing to sacrifice everything he had for others…to keep their awkward, abandoned group of survivors going when everyone else in Clockworks had given up on them.

Problem was, Wendell wasn’t sure what was going on.

What he did know, was that he hurt.

Everything hurt.

The thought of being here. The thought of losing Dax, who’d quickly become one of Wendell’s best friends. The thought of losing Alhannah—whom he considered an older sister, even though she was barely taller than his kneecap.

The rising challenges and reality of being a hero. How connected his mantle was to so many stories, people, and cultures.

Every single thought…every possibility of the future…hurt.

“Because I fail,” he choked out past the dry mouthful of food.

Enid blinked, cocking his head to the side, his brows rolling forward. “What? Fail? Who failed?”

Wendell swallowed dryly, flinching as he did so. “I…failed.” He looked up, and immediately averted his stare from the gnome he’d grown to respect so much.

The gnomes frown remained. “When did you fail? Who did you fail?”

“I always fail!” Wendell blurted out, then softer, “You, Simon, the gnomes in Clockworks, Dax, Alhannah…Chuck! I’ve failed everyone I’ve met since I’ve been here!”

“Rubbish,” Enid scoffed. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve heard you say. You haven’t failed anyone! TGII be praised, boy—you got us out of Clockworks alive! You saved lives!!” Reaching over, Enid gripped Wendell tightly by the wrist with a surprising strength, “You saved MY life! So don’t spew this toilet water at me that you’ve failed. You’re a kid. Bright, kind and wonderful. THAT’S the Wendell I know. THAT’S the Wendell I saw rise to every challenge placed in front of him…and who fought for the homeless when no one even knew we existed.” He let go of Wendell’s arm and poked the teen sharply in the stomach. “That’s not failure. That’s what being a hero IS!”

Wendell rubbed the spot where Enid had jabbed him and chomped on another mouthful.

Is he right? Wendell wondered. There’s no way he can see the whole picture, but is Enid right? Is it my perspective that needs to change?

For several minutes Wendell watched the gnome, who made a much smaller plate for himself.

No, it can’t be that simple. People have been hurt. Betrayed. Gnomes, my friends. Dax and Alhannah could die because I lacked the knowledge and skills to prevent the events that led up to this point in time.

Wendell had, time and again, been saved by the people he was supposed to protect.

Crap, we were all saved by an assassin hired to kill me!

It was all too much to deal with.

He swallowed.“So Chuck and Lili went to see Dax?”

Enid nodded, using a napkin to wipe his mouth, “Which is where I think you should be.” He put the napkin on the table and started to pour Wendell a glass of juice. “I know you haven’t been sleeping well. Those bags under your eyes are getting bigger than the ones we used to sleep on.”

Wendell smiled then. “Yeah, don’t look forward to sleep much. Don’t like what I see.” Nodding thanks, he took a deep drink of the refreshing liquid.

“You could ask that nice blue-elder lady for help. She seemed nice enough.”

“Nurri? She is nice and I’ve seen what she can do with the mind, but when we tried, nothing happened.”

“Nothing? At all?”

Wendell shook his head, disappointed.

The gnome sat back in his chair, arms folded. He pondered for a moment, scratching his twelve o’clock shadow with an index finger. “Ever thought of a more natural solution?”

Wendell chocked on his juice. “Natural? What like…drugs?”

“Naw, I’m thinking more like exhausting yourself with manual labor. Work out, spend your energy doing something productive, focusing on using as many muscles as you can and then passing out when it’s over.”

Pausing in mid-bite, “…and that would…”

Enid leaned forward. “Dreams can change, Wendell, depending on what state we’re in when we go to sleep. From my own experience, I tend to have more restful dreams when I’ve physically exhausted myself first. That’s all I’m saying.”

Wendell munched on some bacon. “Hmm. That actually sounds like a good idea.”

“You did say you’ve found plenty of activity rooms in this place. Why not try some of them out, like the exercise room. Oh! Or that combat training room in the lower area. I’m sure the blue council could send over someone to train you how to fight!”

Wendell stopped in mid-chew.

“What?” Enid sat upright, watching Wendell’s countenance drop. “You said you wanted to learn how to fight, didn’t you?”

Wendell slowly nodded. “I did.”

Raising both hands in defeat, “It’s just an idea, nothing more. If this place ran on firewood, I’d say go chop some wood in that whacko forest outside.”

Hmmm. Now THAT doesn’t sound like a bad idea at all. His head bobbed up and down with the thought. We do have a fireplace. Five of them, from what I’ve found so far. He made a mental note to ask Chuck if they owned an axe.

“Sooooo, you’re going to go see Dax, right? Because that’s exactly what good friends do.”

“Like convincing someone they have worth?”

Now it was the gnome that smiled. “Something like that.”

****

Wendell squinted as he stepped into the light of day.

It had been some time since he’d actually seen the sky. Not just because he’d become a hermit in the cottage, either. Being trapped under the super dome of Clockworks and then being kept in a dungeon…it had been months since he’d seen nature.

As in actual dirt and a sky with a sun overhead.

The transition was a heavy shift for his eyes, and his eyes blinked wildly.

The light breeze felt good on his skin.

The sunshine even more so.

In as long as he could remember, Wendell felt…calm.

This is…nice.

There was no one to make him afraid as he wandered through the central forest of Erimuri. No one would abuse him. There were no creatures lurking about to fear. No one here in Sanctuary hated him.

Yet that last thought stuck with him…for he couldn’t say he knew that for sure.

Kyliene had died at the hands of an enemy.

A Vallen.

Snapped her neck and thrown her body aside as if it were nothing.

Nothing at all.

Wendell’s footsteps faltered.

Stop it, Wendell. You keep DOING this to yourself. None of this is necessary.

The whole community of Sanctuary had come together to mourn he loss of the girl he’d cared for in such a short period of time.

Someone he might have stayed for.

Like spiders, the weight of reality crawled up Wendell’s spine and attached itself to his shoulders once more. The pain of emotional venom piercing his flesh.

He forced one foot in front of the other.

The truth of the matter would show its face soon enough—because getting to Dax meant having to pass through the town where Kyliene died.

As he pressed on, Wendell tried to think of something to say, should he be confronted by one of the Iskari. Something that would convey his heartfelt apology for the loss of one of their own.

Up the path and through the orchard he wandered, though none of the youth usually employed to harvest the fruit were in sight. In fact, the whole community seemed to be asleep or missing.

Where are all the people?

Not that he completely minded the reality of not being yelled at, maybe even spat upon for his part in Kyliene’s death…but where had all the people gone?

As he wandered over the immaculate cobblestone, he shifted to the center of the main street.

None of the shops were open. None of the food carts out front for people to take what they needed freely. All the people were gone, except for a couple walking, hand in hand towards the central park.

The park where a Prime Gate was located.

As he came to the first bridge, which arched over the water, Wendell saw the crowds.

Thousands of people, gathering together in the park.

Wendell tensed.

If he could have gone another way, he would have—but the only pathway to get to the main bridge and up to the High Elder’s keep was through the park itself.

Oh boy.

With each step, he moved slower.

Maybe I should go back. Give Dax more time to rest before having visitors.

He stopped, clenching his fists at his sides.

What is wrong with you, Wendell!?! This is insane. You weren’t the one who killed Kyliene. You didn’t even know what that thing was that killed her.

You still don’t know what it was…so why are you so distraught about being here or worried what people will say?

As he reached the highest point of the minor bridge, Wendell could see over the shrubs and smaller trees. A sea of cream colored robes which most of the inhabitants wore. Collections of people, gathered closely together.

It’s a mob…I knew it! They know I’m back and….

He stopped walking and cocked his head to one side.

Is that…singing?

Sure enough, the closer Wendell approached, the clearer the sound became. A lovely melody of hope and sadness, added to by each member of the community, standing together, holding one another’s hands.

“Wendell?” came a voice from behind. His recognition jolted him and he flinched heavily.

Forcing a smile to his face, Wendell turned, almost stiff-necked, to meet the kind face of the fat baker. They’d met when Wendell had first arrived in Sanctuary. The kind and jovial man had taught him that those in Sanctuary labored for one another, not coin.

“H-hello,” Wendell stammered, not sure what to say.

The baker grinned wide. “It IS you. Have you come to join our song for Dax?”

Wendell stared back puzzled, “You’re…singing for Dax?”

Without breaking his stride, the baker walked up, placed a hand on Wendell’s shoulder and turned his attention to the event in front of them. “It’s our offering of hope. Dax is well loved and respected in Sanctuary and when word came that he was wounded, we wanted to join our faith and prayers in his behalf.”

It took a second before Wendell realized he’d been standing there with his mouth open and promptly clamped it shut. “Does that work?”

The baker smiled even wider. “We believe so. The gods of the Universe hear the song of the heart as a prayer. They hear the intent. We gather together, choose a song of love—one that we would sing to one of our own when ill…and then offer it up to the jumälät while holding that hope in our minds and hearts for Dax’s recovery.” He pointed at the hundreds of bodies standing in rings circling the Prime Gate, “We believe that the more people, united together, the clearer the gods can hear us.”

The baker cocked his head towards Wendell and said in an undertone, “It’s my favorite part…because when we do it together, no one can notice I can’t sing.”

Wendell smiled, relieved.

“You know,” the baker added, his eyes lifting up as the choir raised their voices in harmony, “part of this song is for you as well.”

Wendell almost stumbled backwards. “F-for me?”

The baker nodded. “When the High Council shared the news of you first arriving, we understood there would be a terrible price required of you. Sacrifices made on our behalf for the survival of our people and this world.” His hand squeezed Wendell’s shoulder, the thick fingers gripping firmly. “We claim you as one of our own, young man. We pray for you daily. For your safety. For your success. For your joy and happiness in adversity.”

The thought gripped Wendell’s heart so tight, he could barely breathe. They…don’t hate me?

Large hands steadied him. “Are you alright?”

Wendell nodded, “Just tired. Was trying to get to the keep to see Dax. I haven’t seen him since we got back.”

The baker nodded soberly, “Let me help you then.”

****

Dax had been moved to the High Elder’s keep more for convenience than anything else. An easier way for the healers to attend to the evolu’s needs without disturbing Chuck & Wendell with the constant flow of traffic in and out of the cottage.

And as it turns out, not too many people wanted to enter the wizards domain voluntarily in the first place.

Magic might be a normal way of life around the Iskari, but “some things simply rubbed normal folk the wrong way,” Chuck had said with a smirk. Then he’d winked at Wendell, “Can’t fix stupid.”

Nothing had been spared in effort or supplies to make Dax comfortable.

The room was perfectly warm, both by the giant hearth fire and a collection of plants surrounding the bed, which gave off the right amount of moisture in the air. The bed had been pulled into the middle of the room, fitted with soft white pillows and white sheets.

Though at first glance it looked pristine and comfortable, the closer Wendell got to Dax’s side, the more disturbing the image.

The white sheets and pillows were splotched with grey as it touched the evolu’s skin. Large beads of sweat rolled off his thick boney brow and onto the waiting cloth, adding to the stains. The contrast of color brought out the green hue in his skin, which made Dax look not only ill…but infectious.

Chuck was in the corner, speaking in low tones with both Delnar and Elder Jinn, the master healer of Sanctuary. It was still an odd sight to see the old wizard trapped in the body of a gnome, which was why he was standing on a chair, talking face to face.

Assisting Elder Jiin was Elder Nurri and another male member of the Council Wendell did not recognize. The white robed Elder stood in the far corner of the room with more than a dozen potted plants, working with a set of vials on a small table.

“Wendell, you’re here!” whispered Lili.

Even trapped in her gnome form, she gave Wendell a smile that caused him to go weak in the knees. She walked over from the hearth to join him at the door. “I’m so glad you decided to get out of the cottage! How are you feeling?”

He gave her a weak smile. “I’m…well enough, thank you. How’s Dax?”

She paused, looking him over with concern. “He’s…not well,” she replied softly.

A strange anger swelled up in his chest. “I can see that,” he hissed, “My questions was, how is he? As in what’s his condition? Will he live? Is he getting better? Worse? What’s happening??”

Lili bit her lip and paused before answering. “The Iskari are worried. Very worried. They don’t know what the gnomes did to him—because they can’t seem to affect the poisons in his system. Elder Lamier has provided the strongest plants known to counter the toxins. The herbs they’ve given him have slowed the damage, but whatever this illness or poison is—it’s…”

Wendell gulped, his anger abating, “It’s what?”

Lili reached up and squeezed his hand softly, then whispered, “It’s fatal.”

Wendell shifted his weight from foot to foot. His fingers twitched, eyes darting from Dax back to the Council members. It was then he noticed Lili was holding his hand.

I, uhhh.

He looked at the intertwined fingers. Then at the concerned look on the face of the girl he adored.

She cares. For whatever reason, she cares about what’s going on…and you, Mr Wendellizer, snapped at her. Way…to…go.

“I’m…sorry I talked to you that way, Lili…I’m…”

She squeezed his hand again, looking up at him with her deep chocolate eyes. “It’s okay. I can’t imagine how you’re feeling, Wendell. I don’t even know Dax that well and I’m worried sick over this.” Her other hand joined the first, enveloping Wendell’s fingers with her gnome palms. “I just want you to be okay.”

Wendell tried very hard to keep his knees locked and not to fall over.

Especially on Lili.

“Do they know what they’re going to do? They’re not just going to let him…”

“I think, Wendell,” she said softly, cutting him off, “that they’re going to do whatever it takes to save his life…because they love him.” She paused, staring directly into his face and smiled. “I feel very hopeful, myself.”

The gaze was a painful one, for Wendell at least. Especially when he realized how he’d just behaved.

“I’m sorry, Lili. I didn’t mean to…”

“Really—it’s okay. You’re worried,” she cut him off, “I understand.”

Let it go. Accept the kindness and just let…it…go. “Thank you,” he replied, then pointed weakly at the bed. “Can I…sit with him?”

She nodded, letting her hands drop. “They say he’s not contagious. Everyone’s trying to be mindful about keeping him comfortable.”

Wendell couldn’t take his eyes off the deep, sunken rings under Dax’s eyes. “Has he…”

“No,” she said quickly, “No, he hasn’t woken up.”

Right. “Thanks.”

Quietly slipping to one side of the bed, Wendell just…stared. It was almost unnatural to see his guardian like this. Weak, frail and ill, after all he’d seen Dax do. At just over three feet tall, he’d gone toe to toe with multiple Vallen giants and defeated them as if they were nothing.

He’d helped bring Wendell back to life by making sure his body was taken to Clockworks City.

Lili patted his forearm. “I’ll give you some privacy.”

Wendell continued to study Dax’s face. “Thank you, Lili.”

Her footsteps faded.

Reaching out a hand, Wendell wasn’t prepared to experience Dax’s cold and clammy skin.

Don’t pull away, Wendell. Friends don’t pull away and Dax wouldn’t leave you.

The tips of the evolu’s fingers were a curious shade of purple, the color pushing through his odd tone of green.

“Hey buddy,” he whispered, forcing himself to smile. Sound cheerful, he told himself, but he felt his heart stuck in this throat. “I hear you’re getting better. That’s good! That’s…,” but he faltered, “real good.” Wrapping his fingers around the thick, muscular digits of Dax’s hand, he choked.

Don’t lie to him. Of all things, Wendell, just don’t lie to him.

“Don’t die, Dax,” he breathed. Then, swallowing hard, “Please don’t leave me.”

Tha-THUMP-THUMP!

“I…,” clenching his eyes tight, Wendell dropped his tone to just above a whisper, “wish I could take your place. That I could take all your pain on myself and let Ithari heal me.”

Tha-THUMP-THUMP!

“You should be sitting here, cause I can’t do this without you, Dax. You and Chuck, Alhannah…,” he glanced over his shoulder at Lili standing in the doorway, staring at the floor—arms wrapped around herself, “even Lili.”

Tha-THUMP-THUMP!

Dax’s breath remained steady and shallow.

If there is anything I can do, so you can save him, Ithari….please tell me.

Tha-THUMP-THUMP!

A soft touch of a hand on his shoulder startled him.

“Good morning, Wendell.”

“High Elder,” Wendell replied without looking up.

“Was Elder Käshen able to relay my message to you?”

Nodding, “I got the message.”

“Then we would like to convene this afternoon, so we can…”

“Tomorrow,” Wendell cut him off, sniffing.

The hand slipped from Wendell’s shoulder and vanished into the long sleeves of a robe. “Timing is critical, Lord…”

“PLEASE,” Wendell snapped abruptly. All eyes in the room turned to him. Letting his head fall to avoid direct eye contact with anyone else, he lowered his voice. “Please don’t call me that. Just…call me Wendell.”

“As you wish,” Delnar replied calmly. “There has been a great deal that has transpired since you left. Things of deep import pertaining to the welfare of those in King Robert III’s domain. With the last Demoni Vankil seal in hand, we…”

“Later,” Wendell cut him off robotically. “I’m going to the Black Market first.” He gave Dax’s hand another squeeze, “I want to see Alhannah before I do anything else.”