The Power Source

The Geonzell was dark as we sprinted through. Our steps metallic and rapid across the path. At long intervals, there were dim lamps of crackling neon blue light, some sort of plasmic substance of unknown origins. The staff in my hand, attuned to the star of Cosma, hummed and released small strings of power each time we passed one. If worse came to worse, I could probably use its power in a fight. Each time we passed one, I hoped we would not have to fight.

I felt disoriented here. My sense of space and time skewed with my link to the stars cut off. I didn't even know what level we had ended up on. The airship was a beast in size, its underbelly as long as a battleship and dipped in a way that made it impossible to see its end, but I didn't need to see its end—that was not my job—I just needed to make sure no one was following us.

I peered over my shoulder a fourth time, into shadows and a hall with no end.

"Almost there," said Tzader.

I didn't look forward to our destination either.

"After this bend there should be a hatch that'll take us to our exit," he called.

I made a face. 'Exit' was not the word I'd use. The term was propaganda in the face of the spithole he was referring to, but I didn't voice this—lest I wanted Tzader's mockeries to be added to my list of problems.

A room ahead caught my eye and I pushed my staff in front of him to slow his pace. "Wait, there could be an ambush," I warned.

Tzader came to a stop and allowed me to go ahead. I twirled my staff once, warming its energy in preparation. A crescent of gears hung over the gem of Cosma at its end, they spun in tandem with the staff's motion, and I kept it moving.

Nimbly, I slid to the corner of the hall's end, erasing the clanging of my footsteps as I neared. I sensed two presences, but at a distance, their spirits docile. I risked a peek around the corner and spotted no one in the hall itself. Instead, two large cells took up the back wall before the path broke away. I twirled my staff back down, its gem safely pointed towards the floor, then I rounded the corner freely, forgetting to inform Tzader.

"Oi!" He must have sensed them too.

"Its fine," I said distractedly. It was hard not to be upon facing the person in the cell. His eyes already on me before I could step into the opening. He sat referentially on the ground like some kind of ancient king. His hair the colour of midnight, long and straight, his eyes deep purple and powerful. On his mouth was a mechanical muter with retractable creases that wrapped the full length around his face. When he saw the both of us, he rose. Long, regal clothes followed him, cascading down as he stood tall. With his hands behind his back, he looked down on us with no real malice, but that in itself was threatening, for his power was great. My staff rattled in response.

"Whoa," voiced Tzader, "Who's this?"

"Don't know, but he must be important enough to have his own secluded cell." And not just any cell. No metal bars or a visible lock, just a cosmic field that looked like a transparent layer of space dust and various strokes from a paint brush. It shifted slowly between our gazes.

"Think he can hear us?" asked Tzader.

"I doubt it..." I gestured the words: "Can you?" as I spoke them. His demeanor didn't change, he just watched for a while longer, then slowly looked to his left and back to us. His left held the second cell, one he could not possibly see into. But we would if we kept to our trek down the hall.

He did not seem to care much about our presence, but I couldn't tell if that made him a friend or foe. I peeled down the collar of my robes and showed him the tattoo that rested there. The emblem of our people and our cause.

He took long to react—to the point where I began to wonder if he really was looking down on us, but finally he shook his head. I narrowed my eyes and pulled out the badge of Zemnas that helped us break through many of the doors here. I circled the enemy's crest with my finger and then pointed to him.

He shook his head again.

"I'm gonna break him free," said Tzader without warning.

"What? Are you crazy? He just said he's not one of us. We don't know who he is or why he's down here. He could be a serial killer for all we know." I refuted but knew once Tzader had decided this, there was really no stopping him.

"He also said he's not one of them and any enemy of our enemy has gotta be a friend, right?" Tzader had already rolled up his sleeves. The gems embedded into his arms pulsed and warbled the air around them. His fingers curled diabolically and Tzader smirked as if the illegal activity of the day had only now turned fun for him. And of course it was; it's not like he ever found joy in logic.

"Things must be so simple in that mind of yours," I muttered as the field shook and swirled in on itself before popping out of existence. Suddenly, nothing stood between us and the regal man, and my staff was back up at the ready in case he was hostile.

He'd watched the field go down but did not move. Instead, his expression went serious and he shook his head a third time and nodded his chin to his left, directing our attention there again.

"Huh?!" said Tzader, clearly confused. "The heck is wrong with him? Who rejects freedom?"

My mind was not quite as simple, and so I went to check the neighboring cell and was stunned to a standstill as my eyes fell upon the someone blindfolded there. She was but a child, curled up in rags that may have once been a dress and hugging herself with a shiver. Her hair was a blanket around her and a deep, dark blue. Thick, transparent wires and plugs stretched from the walls to her body.

The Geonzell rumbled.

I rushed back to Tzader, hesitating between the cells, and realized wires were connected to the man as well from the shadows behind. Spurred by the rumble, something like liquid plasma streamed from the ceiling through the cords, slowly making its way towards both inmates before pausing around the girl's restraints alone. Pre-emptively the man steeled himself, cementing his stance, clenching his jaw, and the neon liquid retracted away from the girl alone but continued towards him.

Ultimately, the man could not prevent what happened next.

The blue substance barreled through his body. His eyes glowed with the same toxic brightness as the blue pulsed around him, lighting the room, throttling my staff. And all at once, it drained him of colour and strength. The man could not even gasp or shout out in pain as he crumpled to the ground.

In response, the airship creaked and yawned all around them, and then lurched to the side as the structure no doubt rounded the final peak of the Gren mountain range; the final peak between the Geonzell and the start of a war; the final phase of their mission before the valley of their home. And if all went right in our plan, soon, this very ship would explode.

But it was also that very moment when the gears clicked in my head, and a buzzing took hold of my brain that I realized: this was the moment nothing would go right. Because of this man and the girl he was trying to protect, because Tzader had a heart of gold, because these people were the power source of the ship—not some mysterious plasmic substance of unknown origins. These people were the origins. The planned explosion... depended on them.

It felt like an eternity after the man was downed that the system finally stopped. The liquid draining away. The moaning of the ship muted.

"This is cruel," said Tzader, looking disgusted, the gems in his arms sparked and crackled in that way they did when he was furious. "There's no way I'm leaving him now."

He didn't understand.

In a moment, he propelled himself up into the man's cell and panic seeped into the deepest crevices of my chest.

"Wait!" I called, but the man reacted at once, swivelling his restraints away from Tzader as he took a defensive crouch. He was sweating, breathing heavily through his nose, but his stare was deadly. There was no way he knew of our plan, but it was his eyes—for a moment, a reflection of mine but—those eyes told me he understood the weight of whatever happened here. Like me, he had someone to protect.

"Th-there's a girl in the neighboring cell." I struggled to keep my voice level, keep my emotions impassive. I just needed to get Tzader to stop. "I think he's protecting her—" The man's eyes snapped to me, stealing my breath for a split second before my voice returned. "—If... if you're freeing him, I think we must free her first."

Don't free him. We can't free him. If we do, our people would die. There would be nothing to power the explosion, but they didn't need power to drop their poisons. I had people to protect. Not just one but a city in a valley. Was it selfish of me to think this man's burdens were that of just her? One girl to fight for. Versus one civilization of dreams and promises set ablaze on my neck. My thoughts were on fire.

Tzader's thoughts were simpler: "Then we free her." His voice was in front of me as he passed. I hadn't even seen when he approached.

Let me think! I wanted to pound the message into his thick skull. His every action fueled by blind beliefs. His stupid ideations. The 'we can save everyone' mentality. No sacrifices. Never that. Everything works out in the end. Happily ever afters make the world bend. This was Tzader. This was his faith.

My heart plummeted as he dispelled the second cell. It felt like the Geonzell made another lurching turn, but I knew it didn't.

We had no time for arguments, but he would never agree to whatever plots my mind was avoiding, and when it came down to it, I couldn't really beat Tzader in a fight. But he would want to save everyone. Could we save either of them?

Wait!

I watched him slice the toxic wiring around the girl who screamed and shuddered away. The only power source left growled with fury beneath his muter and I found myself raising a hand, placating him, reassuring him: "She's okay," I said, but my words felt hollow.

Why reassure him? I thought I was the logical one. Yet logic was letting me juggle the weight of this man's life, holding it on a scale with mine. Not my people but mine. It was my life that would be inconvenienced if this man didn't die. But Tzader didn't know that yet.

I gripped down on my staff so hard I was surprised it didn't snap. But it did rattle. Staying forever in motion. Continuously collecting its cosmic power while my breaths felt like they were collecting dust.

Tzader had donated the girl by my side and hopped back into the man's cell all too quickly. His hands gripped invisibly at his own power, his arms crackling in preparation for the final strike. But all the while, the power source kept his stare on me. Perhaps just as surprised as I to see my body snake behind my friend.

The buzzing filled my ears and the staff in my hand was raised high like a lantern. And flew down like a brushstroke. Its end colliding heavily with Tzader's thick head. And I watched his body crumple to the ground.

A defeated breath shook out of me. I stood stunned above my own action, watching the power source as he watched me. His gaze fell first, sliding to a spot beyond my back. I blinked and followed his eye to the girl. "Sh-she will be okay." I said. "I will protect her. But... but I—... you— I—"

I didn't have time for this. For my thoughts to make sense or for logic and reasoning to extract itself from things like empathy and regret. But he didn't wait for either. Much like Tzader, he didn't hesitate.

I watched him gather himself in a single stabilizing breath, clutching a knee as he sat referentially, one leg crossing with the other. He straightened his neck and back and rose his chin like a king sacrificing himself for his kingdom. Determination clung to his every breath, his gaze tightly bound onto some distant noble cause.

Like his thoughts were so clear. Like he knew exactly what he needed to do and was confident in his power to do it. Like he was so ready to sacrifice himself for just one. One girl.

While my fumbling fingers heaved Tzader up, ignoring the blood from his wound, I mounted his stomach over my shoulder. Then feeling like I couldn't breathe at all, I backed away. My bloodied staff fighting my hand as I flung it toward the girl, cushioning her in a nest my powers could carry. I had the power for this.

The power to sacrifice a life, to sacrifice a friendship, to sacrifice my emotions and its accompanying sanity; the power to run, the power to face my phobias and jump off an airship, the power to hold back tears, and then watch from far below, in a peaceful, bloodfree valley... I watched my soul explode.