Chapter Four: It’s Hodon

Kawille insisted that she go to her family, so Jo-Bri escorted her to her father who grimly thanked him, and then Jo-Bri raced home.

"It’s Hodon," his father told him, and it was as if Jo-Bri’s world was falling down around him.

"What do we do?" he asked his father, trying to force his voice to remain calm. He cursed his cowardice.

"Hodon brings fear," his father said, and even the phrase itself increased Jo-Bri’s fear. "It’s how he defeats his enemies before he ever sees them,” His father added.

Jo-Bri nodded, and increased his determination to fight that rising fear within him.

"You have to flee," his mother said a little too quickly, and his heart broke in recognition of the love she had for him.

"No," he said, a little too loudly, though his voice was steady.

His father placed a massive hand on his shoulder. "You are our future," he said quietly.

"And our past," his mother added. "Everything we are, you carry with you."

"If you die," his father said, "so do we."

"If you survive," his mother added, "we survive in you and in your children and children’s children."

"I will not run," he said.

"We cannot win," his father said, gravely, with a hint of the despair Jo-Bri had heard in his voice when he had recounted the story of the Emperor’s overthrow and Hodon’s accession to the throne.

Jo-Bri realized it must be true. If his father could not defeat Hodon with the Emperor’s entire army behind him…

"Why are there no other wizards?" Jo-Bri suddenly asked. "Here, in the village." He waved his arm vaguely. "Or out there. To fight Hodon."

Jo-Bri’s father glanced at his mother, who nodded. Jo-Bri’s father turned back to him. "They merged with me."

Jo-Bri suppressed a gasp. He knew of this type of magic of course. It allowed several mages to merge their life forces into one person, to concentrate their power and increase the strength of the spells the one person could cast. And if the life forces returned to their bodies in time, those bodies could be revived. But if the receiver of those energies died, or if the bodies originally containing those energies were destroyed…

"Hodon had spies in the city," his mother explained. "Your father was the most powerful of the wizards, so the other wizards merged into him, giving him the ability to battle Hodon and nearly win."

"Nearly," his father said, and for the first time Jo-Bri heard a hint of bitterness mixed with the despair in his father’s voice. How much did he not know about his parents, their lives, their losses, their fears?

"One of Hodon’s spies," his father continued, "destroyed the other wizards’ bodies."

"Then –" Jo-Bri said, leaving the question hanging in the air.

His father nodded. "They are with me still," he said.

"It nearly drove your father mad," his mother said.

His father sighed. "We must ask too much of you, my son. Far, far too much."

The fear rose even more strongly in Jo-Bri’s belly. "You want to merge with me," he said and just saying the words helped him regain a bit of control over his fear. At least there was something he could do to help.

"It’s extremely dangerous," his mother said, sensing his calm.

"It’s all right," Jo-Bri said.

"It’s not just that," his father said. "When you accept the energies of another person, you…"

"You hear them," his mother said, "and feel what they felt."

"You get… ‘used’ to it," his father said, unconvincingly, "but they are always… there."

"And it can drive you mad," Jo-Bri said, repeating what his mother had said.

His father nodded, and then hesitated. "It HAS driven men mad," he said, "if you are not strong enough."

"I am, though," Jo-Bri said. "I’m strong enough."

"It’s not just me," his father said, "and your mother."

Jo-Bri nodded, realizing what his father was saying. "The other wizards already inside you."

His father nodded. "And the others in the village."

Jo-Bri took a step back.

"Hodon…" his father began, hesitated, and then continued, "He absorbs the life force of the enemies he kills. He uses that life force to increase his own magical powers," his father added.

Jo-Bri suddenly thought of Kawille.

"You can take Kawille with you," his mother said quickly, either guessing or reading his thoughts. "She is strong, she can survive by your side."

Jo-Bri nodded. He wanted to ask why his parents couldn’t flee with him, but he already knew the answer: Hodon would track them down. The dark wizard-king might not even know of Jo-Bri, much less fear him enough to hunt him down. But if Jo-Bri’s father were still at large…

"He will slaughter everyone," Jo-Bri’s mother said, with a certainty in her voice so absolute that Jo- Bri knew it was true. "And take their energies for his own."

"I am ready," Jo-Bri said. "I saw the army’s dust in the distance. There isn’t much time."

His father nodded, then suddenly pulled Jo-Bri into an embrace that nearly crushed the boy who was all too quickly becoming a man by necessity.

Once his father had released him, Jo-Bri turned to his mother and took her in his arms. He heard a single sob torn the deepest place in her heart, and then she was pushing him away, gathering herself.

Jo-Bri saw a movement out of the corner of his eye and was startled to see through the windows of his parents’ house what appeared to be the entire village standing in the courtyard. He then saw his father turn from him and walk to the front door.

Jo-Bri followed his parents out of the house. As soon as he emerged, he saw Kawille and his heart broke in a million pieces. She was in tears, pleading with her parents who were trying to soothe her. Finally her father spoke a loud, harsh command and Kawille fell back, startled and castigated. Her mother touched her daughter’s shoulder but Kawille had immediately gone from tears to anger and she turned and ran from her parents, into Jo-Bri’s arms.

As Jo-Bri hugged her tight to him, he saw her father catch his eye. Jo-Bri nodded once and the two men understood each other: it was now Jo-Bri’s job to protect Kawille, and he would give his life to do so.

Jo-Bri’s father raised his arms to his side. Jo-Bri felt a chill run through him. Had he learned enough from his father in the months since he and Kawille had found each other? He had studied hard, finally, but was it enough?

His father began speaking in the Old Language and one by one the Villagers knelt, bowing their heads, except for the smaller children who continued chattering away, wondering what their parents were doing.

His father continued speaking, and now the Villagers, as if sleepy, lay down fully on the ground, even the smaller children who did, indeed, look sleepy.

Then Jo-Bri saw his mother kneel and the reality of the situation struck him fully for the first time. Jo-Bri felt a tear run down his cheek. Kawille hugged him even tighter, as if trying to avoid hearing his father’s words.

Jo-Bri’s mother lay down now, placing a hand on his father’s right leg, wanting to feel his presence as she… went away.

Jo-Bri realized that his father, his massive arms still stretched out to the side, his huge palms facing upward, seemed to be growing larger before his very eyes.

And then it was over. Jo-Bri’s father had absorbed the spirits of all the villagers – and of Jo-Bri’s mother.

Kawille started sobbing, though quietly.

Jo-Bri’s father turned to him and Jo-Bri felt as if his blood had turned to ice and his belly to fire. Nothing, not the Ghiri, not even having to walk up to Janessa that day at the dance that seemed so long ago in the past, nothing had ever frightened him as much as this moment did. He knew that part of it was Hodon’s increasing influence as the dark wizard king approached the village.

His father held his arms toward him.

Jo-Bri glanced at the villagers, lying there, apparently dead, and noticed dust in the distance – far closer than it had been. Hodon was approaching the village with his army.

Jo-Bri gently moved Kawille to arms length. She stared down at him, eyes filled with tears. He waited and she finally nodded. He took his hands from her shoulders, turned and went to his father, the great wizard who had battled and nearly defeated Hodon the dark sorcerer. Nearly.

Jo-Bri stopped in front of his father. He glanced down at his mother and nearly lost control, but mentally slapped himself. This wasn’t about him, not even about his grief. He had to do what he had to do.

His father nodded once, then took a deep breath. He glanced at the horizon and saw the plume of dust approaching. Then he turned back to his son.

"I bequeath onto you," he said, ceremoniously, "the totality of who we are. Your family, your village, your people, your race, all that is good and strong will reside in you. If you are strong enough to bear this…"

"I am," Jo-Bri said simply, and his father nodded.

His father placed his hands on Jo-Bri’s shoulders, making him feel physically small, as he always had, but now, strangely, making him feel spiritually and emotionally strong, and Jo-Bri realized his father had lent him some of his own energy, not those of the souls within him, but a father’s energy, meant for his son.

Then his father began speaking the Old Language again and Jo-Bri actually felt his knees nearly buckle. If his father hadn’t given him that extra energy, he may well have actually fallen.

Great, Jo-Bri thought, my father is entrusting the world to me and I can barely stay on my own feet.

The words rolled on, and Jo-Bri began to feel dizzy. Then he realized he was having a whiteout and that he couldn’t see anything anymore, just a fuzzy, broken pattern of light, the dizziness getting worse.

And then the words stopped.

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