Rule of Three Writing Challenge: Part Four...the finale

Hi folks. This has been a really fun challenge and fest! But all good things must come to an end. Here is the finale of my short story: The Awakening

Part one is here.

Part two is here.

Part three is here.

“Kanda medicine, it’ll combat the contagion.” His grandfather says wrapping Kahalee’s hands. “I’m sorry, Kahalee, I should have told you sooner.”

The front door chimes. Kahalee’s grandfather ascends the stairs to the shop.

“Yes, you should have. I would have never touched it.”

Kahalee hears a frantic conversation.

“She’s coming. I couldn’t stop her,” a woman says.

“She can’t see Kahalee this way; they’ll exile him to Assart,” his grandfather says pounding the counter. “I can cure him, I just need time.”

Kahalee struggles up the stairs. But his grandfather is alone.

“You shouldn’t be up here,” he says pushing Kahalee out of sight. But it’s too late; Xenatha walks in. The color drains from his face. She smiles sweetly at Kahalee, too sweet. The old man frowns. Kahalee smiles; relieved to see her again.

“Oh Kahalee,” she says, “I was so worried. What happened?”

A hint of pretence passes her lips but Kahalee doesn’t hear it. Xenatha reaches for his arm but Kahalee’s grandfather stops her. Xenatha scowls.

“Leave us,” she says, “I will speak to my fiancé alone.”

Kahalee gives a weak nod to his grandfather who then leaves, eyeing Xenatha.

Kahalee watches Xenatha pace back and forth. She’d taken the news of his illness far better than he’d expected. But something isn’t right. He can’t put his finger on it. She continues rambling about a way to “fix it.” The medicine finally kicks in. The tingling sensation ceases, his breathing eases and his head becomes clear.

“The Assart?” he says realizing her plan. “You want me to go back there again. Have you forgotten I nearly died in that forest?”

“You have to Kahalee, it’s my… our only hope of survival” she pleads. He searches her eyes for the woman he loved. He catches a glimpse of her and nods.

“Kahalee?” his grandfather calls out. Bena steps out from her hiding place with a grave expression. “He’s gone. Xenatha sent him to Assart.”

Kahalee finds the Taki mushrooms. His knife and satchel ready, he removes his bandages and gets to work. A dark form steps out from behind a tree that protects the oldest living Taki. Its roots nourish the others. More figures emerge from the darkness.

“Our payment has finally arrived,” a hoarse voice hisses.

Kahalee turns and faces Tobias.

“You!” he growls, “that treacherous female! Go and bring her,” Tobias yells to the nearest figure.

“No,” Kahalee demands, knowing whom Tobias is referring to.

They stop, looking at Tobias and Kahalee.

Tobias glares at him. In the eerie silence, Kahalee remembers; his origins, his father Faydal, the black box and the old man who spared him as a child.

 “You will protect her, brother? She sent you to your death.”

“You left her no choice.” Kahalee grips his knife. “There will be no awakening.”

He swipes his wrist, allowing the blood to fall onto the large Taki. Tobias knocks Kahalee down.

“What have you done?” Tobias shouts.

“The blood of the Taki may nourish our kind, but our blood destroys it and its curse on the humans who breathe its spores.”

The Taki begin to whither and die but one is spared, pulled up before Kahalee’s blood can kill it. Weak, Tobias orders the others back down into the earth. But he has one final act. He finds Xenatha in her garden gazing at her flawless skin while his withers away. He grabs and drags her away kicking and screaming.

In a forgotten cavern, far below Renaissance, population 333, they wait until the day the Taki flourish and the awakening releases them from the darkness.

The end ........ for now!

Word Count: 600

Prompt: the misfortune is resolved/accepted, the final event becomes another secret for generations to come, relationships are torn asunder/mend.

Rule of Three Writing Challenge: Part Three

Here is the third installation of the #REN3 writing challenge. If you are just starting out or need a recap, go here to read chapters one and two. Enjoy!
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Xenatha looks at the small flaw on her face and neck in the mirror. She is alone now. Her noisy nursemaid is preoccupied with shopping and preparing cacti-berry juice. Xenatha has one hour and ten minutes to complete her task in privacy. She unties and removes her traveling bonnet. She wraps her long wavy hair in a tight bun. A clay bowl filled with a pale white paste sits on her vanity dresser. Next to it, a silk cloth contains white paper thin sheets of a rare mushroom, Taki. Kahalee, her suitor, risked his life searching for it in the Assart forest. Xenatha gets to work. She has to complete her task and dispose of everything before her maid returns or it’s the end of her political career and life. The small compartment under her bed makes the perfect hiding spot for her tools. She tucks them away and crawls out from under her bed when her nursemaid rushes in huffing.

She fumbles through an apology as she places the sweet juice on a small serving table. She approaches Xenatha but stops when the young aristocrat raises her hand. Xenatha does not want her too close just yet. Bena has a keen sense of smell. Bena looks at her. Xenatha can see curiosity and suspicion. Not good. Bena returns and fills a cup.

“Has Kahalee been by yet?” Bena asks nervously. A faint odor tickles her nose.

“No. It is too early, perhaps at noon. That would be more appropriate don’t you think?” she asks trying to discern where the conversation was going. “Why do you ask?”

Bena opens her mouth but thinks twice about revealing she’d visited Kahalee and his grandfather that morning.  She picks up the filled glass and turns to serve it.

“Leave it there, I will get it when I’m ready,” Xenatha says walking over to the open window. She thanks Bena then sends her away. Bena’s reaches the door then stops. She turns back slightly, eyebrows raised and nose twitching.

“Uh Oh,” Xenatha thinks, “that blasted dry wind from the Schiavona desert. She’ll meddle for sure.” Xenatha narrows her eyes and scowls. Bena leaves the room.

Xenatha exhales. A dark figure steps from behind her massive velvet curtains.

“I thought she’d never leave,” the hoarse voice cracks.

Xenatha jumps. She feels a hot sticky breath on the back of her neck.

“Tobias,” she says in disgust. “How dare you enter my private quarters,” she hisses regaining her composure.

“Your payment is late,” he growls, his lips curl revealing razor sharp teeth. “The Taki flourishes by the blood of man; if you do not send a payment soon, the awakening will be your great legacy to Renaissance.”

Xenatha snorts. “I don’t care about your awakening. If Renaissance falls below 333 residents, people will become suspicious. There hasn’t been a birth or death in the last few years.  Illnesses are rare since the arrival of the Kanda pharmacist.”

“Oh? Are they now?” he asks leaning into her neck, gazing at her face.

Xenatha shudders. Of course Tobias knows her secret, a skin disease that would make her a Renaissance outcast. 

A rock hits her window. Tobias vanishes behind the curtains. Kahalee climbs through the window. Labored breathing, sweat beading on his fevered face, his bandaged hands carry a package.

“What…?”

Kahalee interrupts Xenatha.

“I can’t stay. I’m…I’m cursed.” he whispers. He hands her the package and disappears out the window.

Xenatha clutches the package, more mushroom skin and paste. She bites her lip then grins. Cursed blood?

“You will have your payment by tomorrow, Tobias,” she announces.

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word count: 600

characters: Xenatha, Tobia, Kalahee (secondary character, Bena)

prompt: betrayal is in the air, the impending misfortune foreshadowed in the 1st prompt comes to pass, but one or more characters laugh at it, a long kept secret is revealed. 

Rule of Three Writing Challenge: Part Two

The Rule of Three Blogfest, or REN3 continues! It's hosted by Stuart Nager of Tale Spinning, Damyanti Biswas of Daily (W)rite, Lisa Vooght of Flash Fiction, and J.C. Martin of Fighter Writer. My story is below. Check out part one if you are new to the Blogfest or need a refresher :) Enjoy!


Part One

Part Two 

“Take this to the storage room, Kahalee,” an elderly man says passing the lad an armload of packages and boxes. 

Traditional medicine men from Kanda, Kahalee and his grandfather run a pharmacy in the remote town of Renaissance. They happened upon the robust town as they traveled west on the Espadon River escaping war and poverty in their homeland.

His grandfather piles the boxes high. Kahalee can barely see over the last box. He grins. His grandfather loves challenging his physical and intellectual abilities. Kahalee’s muscles bulge under the weight of the load. He turns and waddles away. He descends a flight of stairs that lead to a long hallway with locked storage rooms beneath their store. Kahalee looks to the far end of the hall. An ominous black door stares back.

"You are never to enter this storage room," his grandfather's voice echoes firmly in his head. But something draws him to the forbidden door. He sets the boxes down carefully and fumbles for the keys. Key after key, the door remains lock. Just as he gives up and turns to continue his task, his foot kicks a loose tile. As he puts it back, he notices it is uneven. He finds a key beneath the tile. Kahalee snatches up the key and inserts it into the lock. He pauses for a moment, but a powerful hypnotic force behind the door compels him to turn the key. 

The room is no different than the others, cold and filled with boxes of herbs, medicines and potions. A powerful generator keeps the temperature just above freezing point. The encroaching Schiavona desert brought with it dry windstorms and scorching summer days. Again, he feels a pull against his chest towards a corner hidden behind sacks and crates. While pushing them aside, Kahalee's hand hits a medium sized black metal box. 

“What’s this,” he says, running his hand over it. Sadness, fear and horror creeps up his hand and arm. Kahalee snatches his hand away. Never had an inanimate object evoked such emotions. The smooth and cold sensation sparks a memory, a long forgotten memory of his past. A disturbing memory hangs at the back of his mind, screaming, pain, fire, a name ‘Faydal’ and the stench of death. Yet, he could not explain what and why this box was among the most volatile and delicate medicines. This unnerves Kahalee because he is known for his excellent memory and attention to detail.  He tries to open it but the black cube has no locking mechanisms and is sealed tight. Kahalee tries to lift it but it’s secured to the storage room’s concrete floor. Then it happens, a tingly feeling in his hands, then numbness. Kahalee hears the bell of the front door opening. 

“Ka-haa-lay,” his grandfather calls from the shop. Must be one of our close friends and customers Kahalee thinks to him self. His grandfather never yells in front of strangers. And as long as they have lived in Renaissance, he still considers the towners and settlers as strangers. Kahalee shakes his hand to get the feeling back. He closes the door and locks it. He turns to find his grandfather standing behind him, a look of horror in his eyes. 

"Did you touch it, Kahalee?" his grandfather demands.

Kahalee shakes his head.

“Did you touch the box?"

Kahalee only stares at his grandfather, his eyes mirror shock, horror, fear and pain. His grandfather looks at Kahalee’s hands and his chest drops.

"You have killed us all, Kahalee," he says in a soft, defeated voice. “Faydal.”

word count: 599
character: Kahalee

prompt(s): One of the characters is revealed to be not who he is, A character lies about an important matter, Someone is killed or nearly killed.

Rule of Three Writing Challenge: Part One

The Rule of Three Blogfest, or REN3, has arrived! It's hosted by Stuart Nager of Tale Spinning, Damyanti Biswas of Daily (W)rite, Lisa Vooght of Flash Fiction, and J.C. Martin of Fighter Writer.
My story is below :) 
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Deep beneath the ground, in a long forgotten cavern, young Tobias sits on a cold earthen floor twisting twine into rope. A soft glow flickers in the darkened room but it doesn’t give much light. His colorless eyes do not need the light to complete his task.

“Tell me again, Naan, about the awakening,” he asks hopefully.

He loves to hear this tale, especially the way his grandfather tells it. It fills him with hope as his belly rumbles. There was a time when the rumble was soft and almost undetectable, but lately, it has become louder and more agitated.

Sitting by the whisper of a fire carved into a hole in the earth wall, a silver haired woman, wrinkled with splotchy skin shudders. She puts a clay pot over the dwindling flames and throws some leaves, dried mushrooms, and roots inside in the vain hopes of suppressing his hunger and prolonging the inevitable.

“Will it be grand?” he asks without looking up, twining his rope tighter.

A deep growl of approval and affirmation comes from the farthest part of the cavern where the fire’s light cannot reach.

“But you must be patient, the awakening must not be rushed. When it comes, the earth opens and releases it bounties. There is abundance, there is life, there is rebirth and there is freedom. The awakening is a grand, grand time that must not be hurried or all would be lost.”

The boy’s stomach grumbles again. This time so does Naan’s. The old woman responds by tossing another root into the pot. A tear rolls down her leathery pale face. She has run out of time and food. The awakening was approaching far sooner than she had hoped. But then, being in the dark earth hole, she had lost all since of time. How long has it been?

She was once young and beautiful. But that was a long time ago. She tries to remember that day. The day life as she knew it ended. A life she tried to lengthen to immortality through myths and legends. Did she really think she’d find an escape from the sickness that had spread throughout Renaissance, the outpost town her family found by sheer luck and claimed their own?

She leans closer to the pot to smell the cooking roots and leaves, a concoction that has thus far tempered the hunger for the awakening. When she leans back, she can feel the hot sticky breath of Naan against her neck. She freezes stiff, her heart beat stops and her blood slows to a snail pace crawl. She can feel him baring his teeth as he inhales the scent of fear and regret that emanates from her pores. Or is it her remorse for being the catalyst that started the awakening all over again he relished. Yes, this will not be the first awakening of the town of Renaissance.

Little did her people know the lonely town in the middle of nowhere was ghostly empty for a reason. His stomach growls sending chills down her spin. The little boy looks up from his work with a grin, baring his fully formed little teeth that are now razor sharp, ready for the feeding.

“Remember,” she says to herself. “Try to remember.”

But all she can remember is her father’s last breath on that fateful day.

“An evil deed can only beget evil.”

 She hands them their last meal of cooked leaves and roots, as the new town of Renaissance rises with the sun far above them unbeknownst of the coming awakening.

word count: 596

prompt: Impending misfortune

character: Tobias