Page 48 of (Un)wise
My present-self struggled as what each of the past selves experienced in that moment flooded me.
The sparks in my mind ignited, glowing brightly...
Emotions surged within me as I had the capacity to drain even more from those around us...
Glimpses of the battle to come floated around in the white infinity of my mind...
Flashes of the past rekindled my purpose.
Our purpose.
“The Urbat have grown too strong. We must reduce their numbers or face worse the next cycle,” I, Wisdom, predicted.
“I have no claws, but give me a knife and I will do my part,” I, Peace, intoned. Seething rage boiled within me. I itched to pace the field.
“I can only see our fates in this life, not the next. We will stay back and do what we can. Be well and be loved in your next lives,” I, Prosperity, said softly, pulling Strength and Hope from the circle.
I looked at my sister, Peace. “I remember how to fight thanks to your past lives, but I don’t have the skills you have from this life.”
I watched her pull another knife from the leather belt at her waist. She handed it to me hilt first. “Grip it firmly and don’t let go. Swing it around like a wild woman until it feels like your arm will fall off. Then keep swinging. Make them bleed. Make them sorry. Make them see their fate.”
An eerie howl rent the air, and it began. The werewolves around us surged forward, meeting the Urbat in the middle of the field. Hand in hand, we ran.
The dream shifted, but not much.
I stood in the center of the red field, the center of the storm, surrounded by a moment of stillness. Bodies lay about me, all reverted to human form. My friends. My adopted family. My protectors. I looked down at the vacant vibrant blue eyes of my sister. She’d fought well with just memories.
A small distance away, the battle continued. Here, I looked around in misery. We’d hoped to decimate their numbers. Instead, they’d succeeded in decimating ours, almost exterminating the Elders, the keepers of knowledge for the werewolves. I glanced around at the Urbat fighters. They didn’t believe in Elders. They didn’t want any group to hold such power over them. Leaders led. If they were not strong enough to do so, they were challenged and replaced with ones who were stronger.
Their emotions drenched the field. I inhaled slowly and deeply, pulling the stagnant mass toward me. For those closest to me, I siphoned their consuming hate, leaving only traces of fanaticism. Several fell to their opponents during their confusion. I felt bloated and tight. Still I inhaled again, pulling more from them, expanding my reach to pull from every Urbat on the field. Something trickled from my nose, eyes, and ears. I kept breathing in, impossibly filling my lungs, and myself, with everything I could.
Something inside me popped, and a flaring pain seared through my stomach. I knew I needed to let go. I gathered everything I held, everything that made me boil and shake with rage, and released it all at once killing the still staggering Urbat where they stood. The few friends who remained staggered as well. Blood ran from their ears as they toppled to the ground. I fell to my knees as they fell. The world surrendered to darkness. The time for Judgement faded.
The dream repeated countless times. I absorbed every sight, thought, and feeling from each prospective before I finally floated to the surface. I now understood the war that had raged, since the beginning of time, between the Urbat and Werewolves.
“Bethi,” Luke demanded near my ear. Then, not so loud, he asked, “Why isn’t she waking up?”
“Go. Away.” My lips didn’t want to move. My mouth tasted like I’d kissed a skunk’s butt, and my stomach hurt. Bad. Still reeling from the graphic dream of death, hate, and pain, I wanted to be left alone. For a long time.
Someone gently touched my head, smoothing a hand over my hair. The touch disappeared a moment before a door opened and closed.
In the silence, I recapped my current life, compared it to past lives, and didn’t like the similarities leading up to the finale. I tried licking my lips and instead moaned.
“Do you need a drink?” a new voice asked.
Opening my eyes, I looked at an unfamiliar face. Wait, no. I blinked at her and remembered. I almost smiled at myself. As if I could forget anything. Winifred. Nana Wini. But I stopped the smile because I didn’t want her to think I was smiling at her. More than ever, I didn’t know who to trust. I needed Hope. I needed to know which of the wolves around me were Urbat and which were Werewolves. Only Hope could tell me that. Knowing the difference between the two wouldn’t determine my trust, but it was a start.
I nodded, and she handed me a glass of water. I drank slowly and grimaced. “Can you help me up? I need a toothbrush.”
She nodded.
Setting the glass aside, I gripped her hand and slowly stood. The gash on my stomach felt hot and tight. It pulled a little. I lifted my shirt and looked at it. Neat little stitches ran along my skin where the cut had been.
“I did the best I could. Luke insisted you did not want to go to the hospital.”
“Too dangerous,” I agreed, moving to my bag and grabbing my toothbrush. The longer I stood, the more I could straighten up. Still, I brushed my teeth, with a slight bend. She stood near watching me closely.
“You really need to change into something clean.”
