by M J Webb
“They also allow the holder to see events that are happening far away, and to contact people there. Those who possess the stones have far greater speed, strength, stamina and agility than normal. They gain an ability to fight, regardless of their previous capabilities. It’s as if years of training has been learnt in a single second. Oh, I can’t explain it Jake, but when it happens to you, it’s wonderful. And it’s saved my life on many occasions. As I’ve said, I’m certain we still have lots to learn about the stones and their powers. I’m sure that we’ve only just scratched the surface of their capabilities. But can you see now why others will stop at nothing to get them? And why it’s so vitally important that they remain safe? Well, from this point onwards my boy, until such a time as you relinquish the job, you are charged with the greatest of tasks. The future of this world and that of countless others is in your hands! This is your destiny.”
Harry halted his explanation. He could see the fear growing in his young grandson’s eyes.
“Oh, Jake. Listen to me, it probably won’t seem like it to you now, but this thing, it’s a tremendous honour. It can be the making of you, if you let it. I never wanted you to have to grow up so quickly, Jay. I never wanted you to have to deal with this at all. But now that the time has come, I really think you can handle it. I know you’re young, but you have strength in you that you haven’t begun to realise yet.
However, Jake, I have to say this to you here and now. The stones are not toys! You’re dealing with life and death. I don’t want to scare you Jay, but you must take this seriously. I know you like to laugh at things when you can, and that’s great. You’re young so why not? But, with these stones comes great responsibility. Promise me you’ll take this seriously, Jake? As I’ve said, our lives depend on it.” he implored.
Jake nodded at Harry and looked across at Ben. The mood in the kitchen was sombre. It’s not every day you learn that you’re a world protector, responsible for keeping evil at bay and safeguarding millions, billions of lives. Harry thought the boys looked as if they’d taken the news well, but Jake’s stomach was doing somersaults. He wanted to throw up but he couldn’t, he was desperate to hear more. Ben, as usual, was feeling hungry.
“Can I have another biscuit please, Mr West?” he asked.
Jake stared at him in disbelief as Harry fetched the biscuit tin and offered it to Ben, who took a couple. Then he offered it to Jake, who shook his head firmly. “No. Go on granddad, please.” he begged.
Harry was about to continue with his explanation when the front doorbell suddenly rang. It made the two boys jump and they both looked at him anxiously.
“Ha ha, I really don’t think that any warriors from other lands looking to seize the box, would bother to ring tme orbell, do you?” said Harry, chuckling to himself as he rose to answer it.
Sergeant Terry Faulkner of the local Police Constabulary was standing on the doorstep as he opened the door. Terry had been a Policeman for eighteen years, he was Lichfield born and bred, he’d lived in the city all his life and he knew the area and its people inside out. For a few years now he’d lived a couple of doors away from Jake, so he also knew the family well.
“Morning, Harry.” said Terry, greeting him in a friendly voice. “I’m sorry to bother you, we’re checking out reports of a bright light seen around the area of your house?” He paused for a moment, clearly expecting Harry to speak, but continued when his question went unanswered. “Err, did you see anything? It wasn’t that long ago, about the same time as the earth tremor? You must have noticed that?” he asked, unsure what to make of Harry’s uncharacteristic silence.
Harry didn’t know what to say, but he knew that he had to say something. “Yes, of course I felt the tremor. I was out in the garden planting flowers. Jake was in the attic with Ben.”
“Ahhh, Jake’s here is he?” asked Terry, as if that explained everything. “Don’t suppose it had anything to do with him, did it?” he asked, in a light hearted tone of voice. “Those boys are always up to something. You sure you didn’t see anything, Harry?”
“No, sorry. Do you want to speak to the boys, Terry?”
The Policeman shook his head. “Nah, there’s no harm done, even if it was them. Everyone seems fine. I’ll check the other neighbours first just to make sure. I can always come back if I need to. As long as you’re all alright. Best be off, if you find out anything let us know please?”
“Yeah, sure.” answered Harry as he shut the door, wondering to himself exactly what others had seen or heard, and whether the Policeman would return. He looked anxiously down at his watch and returned quickly to the kitchen, conscious of the fact that time could be running out.
“Right then, where was I?” he asked, trying to think of the remaining questions from Jake he had yet to answer. “Oh yes, ‘your dad, why didn’t it pass to your dad.’ Well, that was my decision and it’s a long story. I decided to spare him from all the pain the stones had brought into my life, rightly or wrongly. You see, I blamed the stones for taking everything I ever loved away from me. It wasn’t the stones’ fault of course, but I didn’t want my son to go through the same experience. Graham was still relatively young, I wanted him to be happy, I didn’t want him to be burdened with such responsibility. I wanted to spare you in just the same way, Jake. But the decision was taken away from me when you opened that box.”
“But… You said it was hereditary and ran in the family?” interrupted Ben. “How could it not pass to Jake’s dad?”
Jake looked over at Ben in amazement, astonished that his friend had actually asked a sensible question and suitably impressed. Ben looked straight back at him.
“What?” he asked. “I am capable of intelligent conversation you know.”
They both chuckled and stared back at Harry, inviting him to continue.
“Yes, right. You have to remember, this was all some eighteen years ago and after hundreds of years of battles and countless generations of Keepers. Mof our known enemies had been defeated during that time, but one still remained, Prince Vantrax of Rhuaddan.”
“Rhuaddan?” interrupted Jake. “Where the box was made?”
Harry nodded. “Yes, but please let me talk, Jake.” he said sharply. “This is going to take a long time to explain as it is. And time is something we may have very little of. I’ll try to explain everything, I promise. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, Rhuaddan, the same place the box was made centuries before, just as you said. It’s a world not too dissimilar from our own, but it’s different also, in many ways. Like something out of a fantasy novel really, with creatures and beings you could only dream about. And it has its own unique set of problems.
Eighteen years ago, Rhuaddan was in the midst of a massive Civil War, fought between the forces of Prince Vantrax and his elder brother, Prince Artrex. They were fighting for the throne left vacant by the untimely death of their father, King Vechtor. Artrex was the eldest and he was the natural successor to the throne. He was aided by the youngest brother, Prince Nestus. But Vantrax was rich and powerful, he’d recruited a vast army of foreign mercenaries from the neighbouring continent, warriors whose appearance alone would scare you to death. It was rumoured that he’d killed his own father in an attempt to gain the throne, and also that he’d tried to kill his brother in the same way, by poisoning him with some potion, for he practised the dark arts and was known to be a powerful and evil wizard.
Anyway, the country was in turmoil. It was a bloody war. Vantrax’ armies were superior to Artex’ in both numbers and experience. We ‘Keepers’ (That was what the people called us) had been guarding the stones and fighting enemies like Vantrax for centuries. It fell to us to protect them because one of our ancestors on Earth had once unwittingly opened the box, revealing its whereabouts to everyone and opening the portal.”
Harry stopped talking again as he saw more confusion in the young boy’s faces. “Am I going too fast for you both?” he asked. “It’s vitally important that you take all of this in.”
“No, go on granddad, please.” begged Jake. “The portal. If the box is closed, how do they come through into our time? Err... I mean dimension? Your... err, our enemies, I mean?”
“Good question, Jake. Okay. The centre stone of Reolite is the key. Ours is housed in the box, the four corner stones protect it, you see?”
Harry could tell the boys didn’t understand, so he decided to change his tactics.
“Right, listen to me carefully. The centre stone, as I said, is made from Reolite. It’s an incredibly rare and precious gem. Several pieces of it have been found over time in a few locations across the Continent of Estia, which is where Rhuaddan is located. Each piece of Reolite can be used by sorcerers or wizards who have the knowledge. With just a small piece of Reolite, they can summon the same powers as our stone. Only their stones, and hence their powers, are greatly limited in strength and duration in comparison with ours. Each time they use their stone, its powers diminish ever so slightly, along with its size, until eventually it becomes nothing but a totally useless rock. Our stone was placed in the box long ago by a great wizard named Tien. He made the box and he set the four protective stones within it. They suspend the stone in mid air, protecting it, and they also greatly magnify its powers. It can be used time and time again, because the box and the other stones shield it somehow from the eects of use. It doesn’t reduce in size, or lose its power as the others do, you understand?”
The two boys nodded and this time Harry continued without pausing.
“Anyway, Tien placed the crest on top of the box so that only members of our family, as the designated Keepers, could activate it and unlock its secrets. The crest is the lock if you will, but only we have the key. The first Keeper from our family, how he came to open the box, and why it was our family who were chosen, are long stories that I’ll hopefully have the time to tell you later. But we have protected the stones with our lives from that point onwards. Now, would you like another cup of tea?” Harry asked, sensing that the boys may need a break to take in all they’d been told, though he was really hoping that they didn’t.
“No, no, go on!” replied Ben, answering for both of them. “Vantrax. And Jake’s dad?” he asked impatiently, reminding Harry of where he was.
“Oh yes, right, well... Thank you Ben. Let’s see. Ah yes, the task should have passed to my son, you’re right. But an opportunity arose and I took it!” stated Harry defiantly, as if trying to justify his actions. “Vantrax found himself another piece of Reolite. He used it to send three mighty warriors through the portal.”
Harry’s expression and tone changed suddenly to one of sadness and pain, as he began to recall the events of long ago.
“I wasn’t in when they found the house we’d just moved into. Jean was in the kitchen making our tea. She never had a chance! Before I arrived home, the leader of the warriors, a huge, muscle-bound freak called Sawdon, captured her....”
He stopped talking again briefly and took a deep breath. It was difficult for him to speak of these events, even after such a long time.
“You okay, granddad?” asked Jake, in a soft voice full of genuine concern. He was feeling emotional too, he felt like crying, but he wanted to hear the story. He’d waited so long for an explanation of the events of his grandmother’s death. This was a million miles away from what he’d expected to hear, but he needed to know nevertheless. “Can you go on?” he asked sensitively.
“Yes. I have to.” replied Harry, as he wiped away the tears from his eyes and took a couple more deep breaths. “Sh-she was almost dead when I got there, tied to a chair in the living room. Her face was battered and bruised and her clothes were bloodied and torn. The whole place had been ransacked. Sawdon and two others were standing above her, it was obvious that they were waiting for me. They had the box with them and I remember thinking, ‘That’s it, all is lost.’ They could have escaped there and then with the stones, fled through the portal, if only they’d used their brains. But I guess Sawdon wanted me. Maybe he was following Vantrax’ orders, I don’t know, but they came at me one by one. I’ve always kept weapons located strategically around the house and I grabbed one of the swords mounted on the hallway wall. I killed the first two warriors without mercy, as the fury I felt at seeing Jean sitting there half dead exploded within me. I’ve already explained to you that the holder of the stones gains increased fighting abilities?” he asked, sensing that the story would seem a little too fantastic in the telling of it.
“Well anyhow, Sawdon was outraged at seeing his companions die. I’ve never seen anyone so angry. He put the box down and came for me. It was a terrific fight, I was in my prime, but even with all even wwers he was still winning. He was a mighty warrior. I don’t think I’ve ever known his like. He wounded me badly. There was no way I was going to win. But I saw my chance and I broke away. I ran for the living room where I picked up the box. I had the chance to look at Jean briefly. She looked dead to me, so I left her. I was already badly wounded, I couldn’t do anything more. I’m sorry Jake, but I chose to save my own life. I ran out of there as fast as I could!”
Harry was crying openly now, the tears were streaming down his face. But after a few awkward moments of silence, he took another few deep breaths to compose himself and then he continued.
“I ran Jake. I ran to the wooden garage we had at the rear of the house, with Sawdon not far behind. I was still clutching the box. He followed me inside and I was cornered, desperate. But I was used to thinking on my feet; I was a Keeper after all. I grabbed some barbeque lighting fuel and anything else that would burn and I poured it onto some wooden crates that were by the door waiting to be unpacked. I set them alight and they went up immediately, it was a raging inferno in seconds...”
“But how did you...?”
“Escape?” asked Harry, interrupting Ben’s question. “I’d been advised by my father long ago to always leave myself an escape route open. It was something that had saved his skin many times, and it was the first thing I did whenever I moved house. If you look around closely at this house you’ll find alterations I made years ago, all of them designed to allow a quick exit from every room. In my old garage I’d loosened a few wooden panels so that they could easily be prized open. They gave me a gap just big enough to squeeze through. I opened it and quickly scrambled through carrying the box, being careful to replace the panels and cover my tracks. Sawdon couldn’t see through the flames and boxes, the smoke from the fire was too great, so I crawled into some bushes at the back of the garden and I hid there, trying not to make a sound. He was furious. I could hear him roaring with anger and I watched him search all around the garage for some time, but finally he gave up. He seemed sure that I’d perished along with the stones. I blacked out for a while through loss of blood and came round briefly some minutes later. In my wounded and frightened state I didn’t see that Sawdon had set light to the house until it was too late. The house was burning with Jean inside it. And I could do nothing!
I was very weak at this stage through loss of blood and I was barely conscious. I heard some sirens and I looked up to see Sawdon take a piece of Reolite out of his pocket. He summoned the portal, the light came and went in an instant, and then he was gone. It all went dark and I awoke in Hospital days later. I stayed there for some weeks. I was interviewed by the Police under suspicion of the murder of my wife! Can you imagine how that felt? I was never charged, though many people thought me guilty, lack of evidence I suppose, but what could I say? I couldn’t tell anyone the truth. Your father was away at university, he had to live through an awful time, Jake. He had to listen to all the gossip and speculation about me and the events surrounding his mother’s death, as well as dealing with losing her.
I was consumed with grief and guilt, I believed that it was my fault she’d been killed, I should have been there. And I’d failed her. Nothing and no one could console me. I shunned the outside world and, to my immense regret, my son. The one person I should have been there for. I refused to talk abo
ut anything to him and a gulf developed between us that has never been healed. I still loved him greatly, of cours I did. But he reminded me so much of losing Jean, and I wrongly blamed him for that. I decided there and then that I’d shield him from ever having to experience the same heartache. And I thought I had the perfect answer. Everyone who knew of the stones and my identity or existence would presume my death, given Sawdon’s inevitable report. They would all believe that the box had been destroyed. And as long as it was never opened again, I was free to live a normal life. My son could live a normal life. He would never need to know the truth, nor carry the burden of responsibility that I had to endure.”
“Oh my God, granddad! What have I done?” said Jake, as the true horror of what might lie in store for them suddenly dawned on him. He was mortified, he desperately wanted to turn back the clock. “Why oh why did I open that box?”