Myriad

Kalin knocked on the door to Alfred’s room and waited quietly for a response.

“Come in,” Alfred said, his voice raspy.

Kalin opened the door and slowly walked inside. He moved past the dresser and desk on either side of the door, towards the large bed by the window. Alfred was lying down, his left arm bandaged from wrist to elbow. Kalin sat in a chair by the bed. “I’m so sorry,” Kalin said. “I’m so sorry I let him hurt you.”

Alfred turned his head towards Kalin. “It’s not your fault, son, I’m the one who let his thoughts in. I’m the one who let….” He shut his eyes tightly and sighed, lying his head down again.

Kalin looked down, embarrassed. He felt horrible about the huge gash Alfred had cut into his arm when Myriad had taken hold of his mind. The others had stopped him from cutting himself further, but he was still badly wounded. Kalin fidgeted in his chair, not knowing what to say. They were both humiliated.

“I’m going after him,” Kalin finally said, breaking the awkward silence. “I should have gone yesterday, but… I’m going to try to catch up. I can still feel the connection. It’s not as strong, but I’ll catch him. I have to.”

Alfred didn’t say anything.

Kalin stood, feeling stupid, and began to walk away. He reached the door when Alfred called out to him.

“Be careful,” he said, and Kalin looked at him with gratitude. Alfred looked at the ceiling again. “Kalin?”

Kalin paused. “Yes?”

“Finish him this time.”

***

Kalin stood at the front of Theodore’s home, getting ready to leave. It was still quite early in the morning. He knelt by two heavy satchels, checking their contents, while Theodore, who had insisted he didn’t go alone, prepared the horses he had brought for them. Kalin finished checking they had everything they needed, then stood. He looked over at Regina, Sasha, and Mark, all waiting by the door. He gulped nervously.

“Has the connection become any weaker?” Theodore asked.

He scratched his head. “It’s lessening, but not dramatically. Before it felt like Myriad was racing towards me, but it’s different now. He’s traveling… slower. It’s lessening, but not at the pace I would have thought.”

Theodore nodded. “He might be traveling by horseback too. It would take tremendous power to sustain traveling in animal form for too long. He’s obviously not just magically transporting to his destination either. This might be a long trip, Kalin. I don’t know how long this will take.”

Kalin held on to his horse’s reins, sighing. He really wished he’d left yesterday. He lifted his satchel and attached it to the saddle, and Theodore did the same, then clapped him on the back. Kalin turned and looked at Regina.

She ran up to him and hugged him, holding him tightly, and he put his arms around her, stroking her hair. She pushed back and looked up at him, her hands on his chest, then reached up, kissed him, and took one of his hands. “Take care of yourself,” she said, kissing his hand. “Remember, Kalin. You’ll survive. I know you will.”

He smiled at her, remembering her vision. The thought filled him with happiness and joy instead of apprehension for the first time.

She smiled back, then went and stood back by the door. Sasha moved to him and hugged him good-bye, then turned and hugged Theodore.

Mark walked over to him. “Good luck. Be strong. We know you can do this.”

Then he went and spoke to Theodore, and Theodore got up on his horse.

“Ready?” he asked.

Kalin mounted his horse also and took a deep breath. “Ready.”

They rode the horses out into the street, then traveled down the road, Kalin in the lead. He listened to the connection, going in the direction it pulled him, where his gut led him. They rode quickly, Kalin guiding them as best he could. He let his thoughts roam as they pursued Myriad. He was desperate to win this time. He didn’t want to let them down.

But deep down Kalin knew this was just as much about finding out the truth as it was about stopping Myriad. He needed to know what Myriad saw when he looked at him. He needed to know why he let him live. Kalin felt his curiosity burn inside him. It drove him forward, spurred him on.

***

Myriad dashed along the dirt road, the scenery a blur as he rode towards his destination. He had traveled relentlessly since the fight, all the previous day and night, resting as little as possible. He was nearing his target. It would all end soon.

He kept riding, trying to ignore the whirl of thoughts in his mind. He focused on his plan, his perfect plan. But it isn’t…. He growled, casting out the thought. It was perfect. Nothing would stop him. He had planned this day for years. Nothing would get in his way. He glared at the path before him and gritted his teeth.

The day turned to afternoon, and Myriad brought his horse to a stop by a wooded area. Large trees lined the road on either side, turning into a dense forest farther back. He gave the horse water, then sat against a tree and shut his eyes. He just wanted to rest, not to think.

He ignored the connection to the other universal, the sensation weakening as he traveled. He wasn’t seeking the call anymore—he wanted to shut it out. The universal was only a boy. Only a child…. Myriad covered his face with his hands. Only a child! He took deep, ragged breaths. He gritted his teeth again. No! No!

But the thoughts came, the theories, the questions, the possibility. A thousand scenarios entered his mind, but only one kept haunting him. It cut into him, making him bleed raw on the inside. He felt a fire inside him, a burning hatred, but not for the king this time. An intense loathing for the one who would do this to him.

Was he letting himself believe it?

His plan wasn’t perfect anymore.

He sighed deeply. After some time, he rose, knowing he needed to get moving. His will was beaten down, but he would move forward. He sighed again, then froze.

It was different, stronger.

He was closer.

Myriad shut his eyes tightly. He could feel it. The sensation he was trying to shut out had intensified.

He was being followed.

***

Edward sat on his bed on his thirty-sixth birthday. In a month it would be the eighteenth anniversary of Machayla’s death. He would be nearly killed that day. And then, three months later, the murders would take place in the castle.

But not just any murders.

Edward knelt on the floor of his room, silently crying out, not knowing to whom. He begged for Myriad to be stopped. He didn’t want the king to die. He didn’t want the queen and the princess to die. He wanted the bloodshed to end. He prayed for the pain to stop. He would do anything.

He wept quiet tears, wishing he could turn back time, undo his deed, wishing he’d never betrayed his master. Myriad didn’t deserve love or respect, but he didn’t deserve what Edward had done.

Edward cried out in his heart for a solution, for someone who could stop the pain. Someone who could save them all. He knew no one like that existed. He knew his cries would be left unheard. But still he begged.

He curled up on the floor and shut his eyes, dreaming of a future that could never happen, dreaming of a savior who didn’t exist.

***

Kalin sat by the fire in a small clearing in the forest, the blaze crackling, sparks flying about. He quietly ate some bread and cold meat, Theodore eating with him. The night was cold, but Kalin felt warm by the heat.

They had ridden for most of the day, only briefly resting. They finally stopped for the night, both for them and their horses’ sake. Kalin worried they wouldn’t catch up to Myriad—they were nearly a full day behind. Even if they didn’t stop much, it would still be difficult, but they had to try.

He finished his meal and drank some water.

Theodore cleared his throat. “Are you alright, Kalin? You seem to be… punishing yourself lately.”

Kalin frowned. “I’m okay.”

“You know you fought amazingly well, don’t you?” Theodore said. “It was only a week ago that you started using magic again. You can’t be too hard on yourself.”

Kalin shook his head. “But I didn’t win. The whole point was to stop him. I didn’t do anything.”

“You battled him. Would you have survived even a second a week ago? You fought him. That’s more than most people can say. You can’t just see the bad—you have to see the good.”

Kalin ran a hand through his hair, knowing that was one of his greatest weaknesses. He sighed. “All that matters now is that I stop Myriad from killing the royal family. That’s all I’m going to focus on.”

“All?” Theodore asked.

Kalin looked over at him, then quickly away. “It’s all I should focus on.”

There was a moment of silence. “Is there something you want to tell me, Kalin? Is there something I should know?”

Kalin suddenly felt uncomfortable. He didn’t want to be vulnerable. He’d told Regina about his past, but that was different. He rubbed his forehead. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I think you need to.”

He sighed. “What’s the point? What could you do?”

Theodore stayed silent for a moment. “It might help me decide if my theory is correct.”

Kalin’s mouth fell open. “What theory? What?”

Theodore gazed at him, his blue eyes knowing. He stared silently, then finally looked away. “It’s only an idea—I don’t know if it has any truth to it. I’m hesitant to tell you in case I’m wrong. But—”

Kalin suddenly gasped and clutched his chest. He looked at Theodore in horror, the connection coursing through him, hurting him. He struggled to breathe. “Myriad’s stopped,” Kalin hissed. “He’s not moving away anymore. And… and….” He shut his eyes, the surge of power he was feeling from Myriad overwhelming. “I think he’s killing.”