THE JEALOUSY OF JALICE

The darkness was absolute—so unrelenting that Jalice panicked at the possibility she’d gone blind. She clutched at Annilasia, following the tillishu down the stairs with tentative steps. They came to a halt at the bottom of the stairwell. Annilasia fumbled in the dark and muttered curses under her breath. A sharp scratch blistered the air as flames danced into existence, revealing a torch in the tillishu’s hand. Annilasia cast aside the used match and held out the torch to illuminate the space beyond the last stair. The torchlight licked at the shadows, but much of the space remained dark and hidden.

Jalice surveyed the room. Her mouth dropped in awe, but her marvel quickly descended into dread. Thick, seamless walls formed a windowless enclosure that was empty and unfurnished aside from a lone pile of supplies tucked away in a corner. Long pipes varying in size ran across the ceiling in a complex network that stretched beyond the light’s reach.

Jalice imagined that this was what a dungeon might be like. She’d only heard of the torturous chambers from whispers. According to rumors, Vekuuv now hosted numerous prison lodgings for rebellious or deranged tribesmen. She shuddered at the thought.

“This place looks old,” said Jalice. “It must be from before . . .” Her voice trailed off, and the previous sense of awe returned.

“This place is indeed from before our lifetimes,” said Annilasia. “From before the Residuum Era.”

So, not a dungeon, but a bunker. She lightly traced her hands along the wall. Her heart skittered before she pulled away, suddenly reminded that many people had perished while confined in enclosures such as this.

“Our ancestors hid in these during the Last Great War,” Jalice continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “This is how some of them survived.” She turned to Annilasia. “Didn’t the Sachem acquire all of these?”

“Not all of them it seems,” said the tillishu. A dark look crossed her face. “Come. We should eat. Then, we sleep.”

Jalice followed Annilasia to the supply pile. Her stomach growled, and she clutched her abdomen. Though exhaustion threatened to overtake her, hunger was overriding the demand for rest. Jalice watched eagerly as Annilasia rummaged through the few boxes and satchels. The tillishu reviewed the contents with care and noted what each vessel contained. When she came across drinking flasks, she handed one to Jalice before resuming her search for food.

Jalice’s hands shook as she unscrewed the top. Her parched lips rejoiced when the cool water passed over them to soothe her throat. After several long gulps, she lowered her head and let out a satisfied sigh. A grumble brought her hand back to her stomach.

“You said there was food,” said Jalice.

Annilasia wrenched off the lid to the last box. “I swear, if that twister didn’t give us—here it is.” She grabbed a jar and an oddly wrapped lump, handing each item to Jalice. “Food, as promised.”

Jalice licked her lips and dropped to the ground. She gripped the jar’s tight lid and clenched against its clasp. Maybe it’s smoked fish or pemmican. The lump was probably bread—perhaps corn- or cinnamon-baked. She pried back the lid and peered inside as her stomach growled again. When she realized the contents, she balked and raised her head to Annilasia.

“Is this a trick?” she asked. “Do you expect me to eat oats and quinoa with sprouts?”

“Add water and eat,” Annilasia said sternly.

Jalice’s hopes sank as she stared into the jar. She glanced at the lump, fearing her imagination had oversold its contents as well. She put the jar aside, picked up the parcel, and slowly peeled back the wrapping. A stiff loaf of bread. The corn bits baked into it were of little comfort.

“Is there nothing else?” she asked in disbelief. She realized her mistake when she was met with a jaded look.

“What’s wrong with what I’ve given you?”

“There’s no meat,” Jalice said anyway.

Annilasia’s eyes widened with agitation and her jaw clenched. “I’m going to try to forget you just said that.”

Jalice squinted at her. “Wanting meat isn’t wrong. It’s more—” Jalice broke off mid-sentence when Annilasia sprang to her feet with clenched fists.

“Black stars, you’re serious. I knew it was possible your diet had changed since the Sachem’s decree, but I’d hoped you wouldn’t be dense enough to mention it to me.” Annilasia gritted her teeth. “Eat the damn food, or I’ll force it down you myself.”

Jalice returned Annilasia’s scowl. “The Sachem didn’t decree we go slaughter whatever animal we choose, whenever we desire. There’s a system of what can be hunted and consumed.”

Annilasia paced the room like a caged beast. “You enlightened, conceited . . .”

The tillishu’s words lowered to incoherent mutterings, but the implied obscenities had Jalice squirming.

“You’re following the mind of a madman,” said Annilasia, pausing to point a finger at Jalice. “Can you not see how destructive his rule has been? He’s permitted the hunting of animals—our brethren of the land. How can you eat the same creatures that we once soul coalesced with?” She quieted, but only long enough to catch her breath. “This is the reason our land is infested with untamed beasts now. These forests used to be safe—for us, and for them—but now they’ve reverted to their violent instincts out of a need to survive. Our hostility has driven them to savagery.”

Annilasia’s chest heaved as she flexed her muscles, clearly fuming. Judging by her posture, Jalice assumed the warrior was ready to attack. Yet a genuine bewilderment kept Jalice from fully registering any fear at this.

“You have lost your mind,” Jalice said simply. “What you’ve said is grounds for banishment, or worse. I thought your insanity was spurts of stress, but this delves much deeper. First you say he’s possessed by a dokojin—”

“He is.”

“And now you’re spewing out that he’s decreed blasphemy and violence. He hasn’t changed our relationship with the animals. His tribe is full of Tamers and their loyal pets.”

“Those animals are manipulated and enslaved, just like our people,” snapped Annilasia.

Jalice moaned and threw up her hands. “Is this the real reason you’ve kidnapped me? Out in the forest you led me to believe that something was amiss with the Ikaul, but maybe that was a mistake. You’ve clearly smoked enough hopper’s weed to sear your mind, as you have no control over your conspiracy paranoia.”

Finally, after glaring at her food choices once more, Jalice picked at the bread and stuffed a few pieces into her mouth. Ensuring Annilasia witnessed her displeasure, she grimaced at the stale texture and bland taste.

“So, you have no qualm with the butchering of animals?” asked Annilasia. She lifted her chin at Jalice in disgust.

“You obviously don’t,” Jalice snapped. “Take a look at your armor and furs. I somehow doubt that all of those were made from willing critters, yet you’re not abstaining. Survival trumps virtues of grandeur.”

Annilasia groaned. “Do you disagree with any of the decrees the Sachem has made? How about the Cleanse Hunt?”

Jalice tensed. “What of it?”

“It’s a hunt to kill off mirajin!”

“With good reason,” said Jalice in between chewing. “Their kind opposed the unification of Vekuuv and Ikaul. The mirajin did nothing when the Delirium infected Vekuuv, and instead blamed the Sachem for its outbreak. They threatened to translate him to the Ethereal Realm for judgement when he was trying to find a solution.”

“He drove them off their land,” Annilasia countered. “He put a deathmark on them, and now the tillishu”—she gestured at herself—“have been tasked with hunting them.”

Jalice pressed her lips together. She broke her gaze to fiddle with the oat jar and grabbed a nearby flask to pour water over the grains. Annilasia’s eyes bore into her, but Jalice refused to acknowledge her. She was done arguing over her husband’s sanity.

“Do you regret anything?” asked Annilasia, words infused with accusation.

“What are you talking about?” scoffed Jalice.

“Don’t play at this, Jalice. This all could’ve been avoided if you’d given up Hydrim. You drove him down this path.”

Jalice glared at Annilasia. “What in Sahruum’s name are you talking about?”

“That day you came running and crying to me. You babbled about how you’d done something terrible. Mentioned the Black House and Hydrim. You said a dokojin had killed him—an absurd claim. It didn’t make much sense at the time.”

Jalice blinked. “You’ve mentioned this Black House before. What is it? I have no memory of such a place.”

“And this is the second time you’ve feigned ignorance.” Annilasia squatted to eye level with Jalice. Her brown eyes narrowed. “I can’t tell if you’re lying or speaking what you believe to be the truth. Do you truly not remember?”

“You’re frightening me,” said Jalice, looking away from the tillishu’s scrutinizing gaze. There was shuffling and the sound of dirt crunching under boots. She chanced a quick glance up and found Annilasia standing again. The warrior no longer appeared angry, only stern.

“Eat your food,” she commanded. “Then, sleep.” Annilasia went to sit close to the supplies and retrieved her own jar and flask.

The tense exchange hadn’t curbed Jalice’s appetite. She finished the contents of the jar and nibbled on bits of bread. No sooner had she appeased her stomach than the onset of sleep came over her. Jalice yawned, which prompted Annilasia to produce a blanket and pillow from one of the boxes. She tossed the set towards the chieftess without comment.

Jalice tucked the blanket tightly around her to repel the chill perpetuated by the stone walls and floor. Slowly, her vision grew fuzzy as the Terrestrial Realm dimmed. Thoughts of howling grimalkins haunted Jalice as she drifted into dreams.

***

Jalice startled awake. Darkness enveloped her, and if not for the paralytic terror, she would’ve cried out in panic. Her heart raced, pounding like a drum against her chest and in her ears. A faint impression tickled her mind. Something loud had awakened her. The dim recollection of scraping metal and a thunderous boom broke through her waking confusion.

Her eyes adjusted slowly to the low lighting. Recalling her circumstances brought forward painful memories and a spike of anxiety. Quietly, she whispered Annilasia’s name, but she received no answer.

Did she leave me alone down here? Her initial fear of awakening Annilasia—fueled by the assumption that the warrior was still sleeping soundly nearby—dissipated. She found it difficult to feel relieved though. The tillishu’s absence was odd, especially at night. Though, it was impossible to tell how much time had actually passed; it was just as likely that daylight had come already, and the tillishu had left to scout the area.

Yet the exhaustion Jalice had felt before falling asleep lingered. Part of her hoped that night still ruled the world. She needed more rest regardless of how long she’d already slept. Still, not having Annilasia around unsettled her.

Jalice lay awake as she waited for Annilasia to emerge from the shadows. She stared at the ceiling and wondered if her ancestors had done the same, and in a similar state of uncertainty about the world above. Without windows or a way to keep track of it, time passed strangely. Fleeting hope of escape came and went as she realized that Annilasia would have sealed her in. Even if that wasn’t true and Jalice managed to flee, she wouldn’t know where to go. She was more lost now than ever.

Jalice mindlessly glided her fingers around her vow ring. The innocent fidgeting loosed a stream of dark broodings and anxious fears. She could hear Annilasia’s accusations and claims against the Sachem in her head as clearly as if the tillishu were standing over her.

There’s no evidence Hydrim is possessed by a dokojin, she reassured herself.

As Sachem, her husband had been forced to make hard decisions that sometimes didn’t make sense. Even the Ikaul Elders didn’t always understand his logic. But Jalice believed he did everything for the good of the Unified Tribes.

She held up her hand to observe the ring. Hydrim had orchestrated his proposal as the conclusion to the first Unification Celebration, a moment witnessed by all the tribespeople present at the gathering. She could still recall the star flares in her stomach at the sight of his triumphant smile upon her acceptance. An old tradition: beseeching a woman with a circular memento carved to fit around her finger. No other tribe practiced the tradition, but Hydrim had revived it solely for his pledge to her. He declared her Tecalica—his Twilight Eclipse—on the same day.

The ring was nothing short of extraordinary. Hydrim claimed the foundation was carved from seaborn driftwood hailing from the Indiligo Islands, a mythical wood in its rarity. She’d never been able to coerce out of him how he’d attained such a fantastical item.

Yet its true brilliance lay in the encapsulation crown. Made of a transparent blue matrix that permitted light to pass through, it held white specks that sparkled like twilight stars. They revolved in a systematic orbit, much like a solar system of celestial bodies. Jalice had little doubt the capsule had been enhanced with aether. Such an effect couldn’t be achieved naturally in the Terrestrial Realm.

A man possessed by a dokojin wouldn’t have given me such a sentimental gift.

Still, Jalice dwelled on the accusations: the enslavement of her fellow tribesmen and the execution of her parents. She grimaced, unwilling to let Annilasia’s twisted lies poison her relationship with her husband. My parents got sick, and the Vekuuv needed to assimilate in order to survive the aftermath of the Delirium and the Purge.

Jalice pulled the blanket tighter and closed her eyes while unpleasant memories continued to afflict her. It was becoming difficult to keep believing that those tragedies had occurred for a valid reason.

Years ago, before the tribes unified, an ailment that deteriorated both the body and mind consumed the land. No one knew how to combat the epidemic. Fearful whisperings eventually termed it the Delirium. Men, women, children—the sickness didn’t discriminate, and it claimed many lives, leeching its victims of both moral and mental integrity. Over an alarmingly short period of time, the afflicted transformed into mindless brutes bent towards violence. As bleak fate would unfold, it was discovered that the Vekuuv territory was the tainted source of the disease.

The Sachem promised a cure, but only if the Vekuuv submitted to a period of controlled observation and repayed his kindness in the years to follow. To Jalice’s shock, the Vekuuv had resisted—amongst them, her parents. It was unclear whether the revolts were of sound response, or if they were caused by the preliminary onset of the Delirium. A short while later, the Sachem enacted what later was termed the Mournful Purge—a sweeping effort to cleanse the land of the sickness by targetting it at its source. The Vekuuv deemed it genocide. Among those slain as a result of the Purge were Jalice’s parents and her older brother, Kerothan.

Jalice shifted restlessly beneath her blanket. Tears swelled in her eyes. She hadn’t thought about her family in years. As the memories trickled through, Jalice found herself straining to form an image of her brother. A haze clouded her mind—similar in effect to when Annilasia had first mentioned the Black House. Anxiety rose inside her. Why can’t I remember?. She couldn’t form any memories of Kerothan, nor picture his face, or even hear his voice.

A subtle but growing hysteria itched beneath her skin but was interrupted by a deafening clang that echoed throughout the chamber. Jalice sat up. Her heartbeat, rapid already in the aftermath of her ruminations, escalated. The clang was followed by grating metal and what Jalice realized was the steel door being forced open.

Jalice peered expectantly through the darkness at the stairwell, waiting to see Annilasia with an apologetic face, or maybe better-tasting food. Perhaps the tillishu had taken time to realize the madness in her rash assertions. Jalice heard the soft crunch of dirt under boot as Annilasia descended the stairs.

Only when the silhouette reached Jalice, outlined in the dying embers of the torch, did she understand it wasn’t Annilasia. Someone else had entered the bunker.