by Ian Newton
Chapter 3
The Kingdom As It Was
“I can feel the book asking me to open it. It’s just like I saw it in my dreams and I feel like I...,”
Suddenly, a brilliant Light shot from the book and everything in the room faded away. Andrew felt a hand on top of his, gentle yet firm and he heard a voice saying “Nooooooo!” Then the Light was gone.
Mr. Miller had his eyes closed and the book in his hands as Andrew got to his feet.
“What gives you the right to…?!” Andrew’s mouth was open, and his arm was sticking straight out with his finger pointed right in Mr. Miller’s face.
“Sit down Andrew, and tell me what just happened.”
“I don’t know. I guess I just needed to stand up.”
“You fell into the trap.”
Andrew sat back into the big leather chair trying to remember why he was standing.
Mr. Miller removed a long strip of black cloth from his pocket and blindfolded himself. With his head tilted up and a blank expression on his face, he said, “Now I’m ready, Andrew. Here we go.”
Handing Andrew the book, he said, “You’re about to visit the Kingdom as it was more than two thousand years ago. Try to remember everything you see. Understand that you can move to wherever you want, just by focusing on where you want to go. I’m going to be talking to you during your trip. Remember, I’ve been there before, and I’m your guide. Nothing in the Kingdom can hurt you and no harm will come to you.”
Mr. Miller opened the cover, revealing a brilliant white Light that took on shades of blue as it filled the room. In its expanding arc across the ceiling, every object in the room threw off a long shadow until the candlelight, Connor, Mr. Miller, and the room faded away.
Instead of turning away or shielding his eyes, Andrew was compelled to look, to stare into the Light as it danced and flickered in waves. He tried to see its source as it shimmered and ebbed, growing and fading in intensity as it flowed around him.
Gradually the Light faded, leaving him weightless, thousands of feet off the ground. He wasn’t free-falling and yet nothing was controlling his descent; nothing except the Light, but the Light was gone.
Looking over the landscape below, he was overwhelmed by the vast range of towering, jagged, snow-capped peaks. Each one reached an impossible height, and they had a chiseled, almost unnatural appearance. The majestic stone spires filled the horizon for as far as he could see.
Looking down he saw an enormous city. Andrew strained to see the design and architecture of the buildings until he realized how incredibly far away they were.
He turned in the opposite direction and saw a dry, lifeless desert beyond the great city. Each wave of its flawlessly patterned sand cast a shadow, and the pattern of the dunes ebbed on for miles until they transitioned into the ebbing blue waves of the ocean.
Pivoting effortlessly back toward the city and mountains, he continued downward toward the barren sands. Several of the mountain peaks were already above him. Leaning his head back, he marveled at their size. Following the sharp lines and angles of the peaks to their bases, he noticed the mountain range didn’t end where the city began. Instead, the city and the mountains flowed into one another; just as the sea became the sand, the mountains became the city.
As Andrew drifted lower, the perfection and simplicity of the city’s design overwhelmed him. It looked nothing like the towns and villages he had visited, and somehow he knew it wasn’t made of bricks or block. Such crude materials could never radiate the harmony and beauty achieved by sculpting the mountainsides and bedrock.
Streets radiated from the city center like the spokes of a delicately made wheel, but with infinitely more detailed and complex patterns. Each primary outward spoke connected to the next by a latticework of corridors, walkways, bridges, and roads. And all this subtlety worked to emphasize a single towering spire emanating from the city center. This impossibly slender, gleaming white spire ended with a tapering point. Just below this point there was a large arched window.
Andrew heard a distant voice,
“Go to the window.”
Andrew didn’t think it would be possible to travel all the way to the window and besides, he was heading toward the desert to see the city from the outside.
In the empty open desert, more than a mile away from the city, he stood facing the only defensive barrier between the greatest civilization ever and the outside world.
The massive outer wall of the kingdom grew directly out of the desert sands. It was almost the same color as the sand, but dull as if it was pulling light into it. Through the heat waves rising off the sands, Andrew could only see one of the three enormous archways which allowed entrance to the Kingdom.
Feeling a bit anxious to inspect the city, he focused on the archway and imagined himself standing in front of it. A blurring moment later and that’s exactly where he was.
The distant voice spoke again,
“Make sure you look at each archway and don’t forget the Defender’s Portal.”
Looking up at the words seventy feet overhead, he knew he had seen letters like this before. They were intricate but bold. Like the lettering you might see on an official document, but certainly not the type of lettering that’s etched in stone. The deep blue letters shimmered and sparkled as if water flowed through them. The artistry was beyond perfection.
While he could guess at some of the letters, the words were beyond recognition. Then, to his surprise, he spoke the verse aloud,
“Only the Virtuous May Enter.”
He put his hand to his mouth in astonishment. “What does it mean?” he whispered, “Only the Virtuous May Enter.” As the words left his mouth, images began to flicker through his mind.
A thin man with a shaking hand was stealing a plump loaf of bread as a shopkeeper turned his back. A small boy threw a rock at a window, and Andrew heard the glass break; a woman was bartering with a man in a crowded market and a little girl walked by, innocently dipping her hand into the woman’s bag, stealing her scarf and a bundle of carrots. The images became more intense as Andrew witnessed a horse being whipped and forced into a corral; a man was beaten and robbed in an alleyway, then left for dead; finally and horrifically, Andrew watched as a faceless marauder cut a man’s throat.
The Light within the book spoke to him in a soft feminine voice, “These things are not allowed in the Kingdom. Those with such thoughts or desires may not enter, and those who commit such acts may not remain. The virtuous person is above these things; they are selfless, caring, humble, and honest.”
Andrew nodded in agreement and started to walk under the archway when he thought about how Connor lost his toe.
“What happens if you’re not virtuous, and you still try to enter?” he asked aloud.
Again, images formed in his mind. He watched as a gentle looking, desert-weary, elderly man in poorly cut robes reached the center archway in the outer wall. The one Andrew was standing directly under. The old man raised his head and spoke the words in a dry, tired voice, “Only the virtuous may enter.” The dark blue letters flickered and crackled with electricity. The man balled his hands into fists, lowered his head, and started walking under the archway.
Just before he made it to the other side, Lightning ripped through the air in a blinding flash. Wild ribbons of Light connected the top of the archway with the sands below. Before he could take another step, a clap of thunder split the air. The sound wave knocked Andrew onto his bottom, and he only heard the first part of it, then his ears just seemed to stop working.
The man stumbled in the loose sand, but kept walking through the archway. He walked across the expanse separating the outer wall from the inner wall, and when he approached the final archway of the inner wall, he raised his head.
“Know thyself, for you shall be revealed,” he read, from high above.
He fell to his knees and pounded the sand with his fists. With tears running down his face, he yelled to the sky, “I am a virtuous man. I know in my heart I am worthy to enter your Kingdom!” He got to his feet, and in a final burst of energy, he ran into the archway and disappeared.
Andrew got back to his feet, asking, “Where did he go?”
“He is back in the desert.”
“But where?”
“Where all who do not yet know the error of their ways must go; back where he started. He is alive and unharmed, but he may not enter the Kingdom until he is ready.”
Andrew stood looking into the Kingdom from beyond the outer wall. After a while, he asked, “How can he become virtuous?”
“It is a different path for every person. Many of those who are tainted by hatred or fear can never find their way, but over time, it can be done.”
Andrew took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Finally, he asked, “Can you see what I did to my friend, Connor?”
The kind voice of the Light spoke again, “You have done nothing to forbid your entrance to the Kingdom. Your friend acted of his own free will.”
Andrew was relieved, but completely overwhelmed by what was going on. The voice in his head, the Light, this invisible guide could see what he had done and knew what he knew!
Andrew heard the distant voice again,
“The Defender’s Portal, don’t forget the Portal.”
“I should go look at the Portal,” he thought, and the scene in front of him blurred. Without moving a muscle, he flew off to the east. The Defender’s Portal was exactly half-way between the southern and eastern archways of the outer wall. Within seconds, Andrew had traveled more than three miles.
When he stopped, the outer wall was only six feet away, and the small, unassuming niche of the Defender’s Portal was right in front of him.
Looking into the Portal, Andrew felt angry and sad.
“So this is where fathers come to die,” he murmured.
Knowing his life might depend on what he saw, Andrew looked closely at the Portal trying to take in every detail. The opening looked exactly like the archways in the outer wall except it was much smaller. The peak of the arch was only fifteen feet high, and the sides were no more than eight feet across. It looked to be about eight feet deep, and since it was carved into the outer wall, the floor was just a foot off the sand.
Stepping across the threshold, he passed through something cold. It felt like he was back at the bottom of the lake. With both feet inside the Portal, the feeling disappeared.
Instead of being square, the walls formed a perfect half circle and in the center of this small recess there was a white spike. It was about four feet tall and ended in a dangerously sharp point. Around the thick base of the tall cone, inlaid into the floor, patterns of lines and squares radiated out in a spoke-like formation.
Along the curved wall, etched into the stone, there were dark letters outlined in pure white Light. When he looked into each of them, they weren’t just black, they were empty. The bright white of the edges bled into the center and disappeared. Andrew had never seen anything like it.
He backed up to the entrance of the Portal until he felt the chill of the barrier through his shirt. The phrase on the wall intensified its glow, and he read it aloud,
“No one shall go unchallenged before the call abates.
To lay your hand upon the spire declares both choice and fate.
Connected by your sacrifice two shall be as one.
Send hope when it has faded and strength when you have none.”
The spike suddenly lit up, and Andrew shielded his eyes. With his hands blocking the Light, he saw the letters on the wall fading. As the last word faded away, the spike began to pulse, growing dimmer then brighter in a rhythmic pattern. When his eyes finally adjusted, he lowered his hands a little and looked around the room.
With each blinding flash, Light pulsed into the spike and shot out of the top. A second later it would fade, pulling the Light down through the spike and pushing it out of the base; into the pattern of lines and squares on the floor.
The Light traced through each tiny line and shape until it reached the outer wall of the chamber, then the spike re-energized.
Andrew stepped forward and knelt down, looking at the intricate pattern on the floor. When he reached forward to place his hand on the floor, he noticed a small black shape just below the tip of the blazing white spike. It wasn’t glowing at all. The little black thing never changed color, even when the spike pulsed with Light. He realized that the black shape looked just like the window at the top of the spire in the center of the Kingdom and he began connecting the clues.
The Light faded again, and the small streets and buildings represented by the inlaid cityscape echoed the pulse as they quickly filled with Light and passed it outward to the Portal wall. In came the Light and down went the glow, in and down, in and down. Andrew took a deep breath and sat down on the floor with his legs crossed.
With each passing second, the pulsing of the Light slowed. Eventually, it settled into a steady, calming rhythm.
He was staring at the small black window when something in it moved. The hairs on the back of his neck and arms stood up, and the pulse of the Light quickened.
Unfolding his legs, he quickly pushed himself back to his knees until his head was directly in line with the window. He scooted forward, holding up his hands and making a little opening to look through.
Andrew thought he could see a little smudge or maybe the shadow of a smudge in the darkness. Leaning forward to look more closely, he steadied himself by putting one hand on the tip of the spire and the other just below the small window.
From the moment his fingers touched the spire, he knew he had made a terrible mistake. The spire and floor stopped pulsing. A brilliant beam of Light shot out of the top of the spire, and every ounce of strength was pulled from his body. Pulling his hands off or pushing away from it was impossible.
After all his strength had drained away, his hands dropped to his side. He fell forward, slamming his cheek and ear into the stone spire, then his shoulder rammed against it. The floor was coming up fast, and he closed his eyes, bracing for impact.
When the impact never came, he slowly opened his eyes. He was lying on a floor, but his face was resting on a soft carpet. A tall woman was walking away from him toward a giant window, and with the little breath he had left, Andrew screamed for help.
Mr. Miller closed the book with a snap, but without time to adjust to the nearly pitch-black room, Andrew was blind to his surroundings.
“Mr. Miller,” he shouted, moving to stand up. “Is that you?!” he cried out, smashing his forehead into Mr. Miller’s chin.
“Ouch! It’s me all right,” Mr. Miller said, taking the book. “I think you just knocked out one of my teeth!” he said gruffly, setting the book on the floor next to Connor.
“Ooooh my head,” Andrew moaned, holding his forehead and slumping back into the chair with his eyes closed. “I thought I was done for.”
When he finally opened his eyes, Mr. Miller was lighting the last candle above the fireplace.
With blood running down his chin, Mr. Miller gently touched his lip and winced.
“Nope, my tooth is still there. I just got a nice split lip.”
They looked at each other and laughed.
“What did you think?”
“I had no idea, I mean whatever that was, no wait, that’s not right. What I mean is, the Kingdom, it’s incredible. I wouldn’t believe anything I saw was real except I was there. I saw it, I felt, I have to go back!”
“Tell me what happened? How did you make that sound?” he asked, setting his candle back into the holder on the table.
Andrew’s green eye’s flashed with excitement and fear as he recalled his journey. “I was standing i
n the Defender’s Portal when I noticed the spike on the ground; you know how it pulses and glows. Well, I knelt down to look at it more closely, and I sort of grabbed it on accident.”
Mr. Miller’s eyes got wide, and his hand fell away from his lip, “You touched it?”
“Well, I didn’t mean to, but yeah, I did.”
This time, it was Mr. Miller’s turn to say, “Wow!”
“So what happened?”
“As soon as I touched it, the entire city map and the spire stopped pulsing, and they both lit up. I don’t know how long I held on, but honestly, I couldn’t find the strength to let go.
It sucked every bit of strength right out of me. The next thing I knew I was face down on some carpet and a woman was walking around crying. I thought I was going to die. I didn’t even have enough strength left to breathe. The last thing I did was cry out for help. That’s when I came back here…, but I guess I never really left, did I?”
Mr. Miller leaned toward Andrew, and asked, “Was there a big window in the room and was the lady who was crying real pretty?”
“There was definitely a big window, but I couldn’t see her face. Have you been there too?”
“I didn’t think you could get in there,” he whispered, sitting back and sounding far away. “I’ve seen it from the outside, but never from where you were. You may not have been there very long, but you were in the room at the top of the spire, the private retreat of the Kingdom’s creator. You were in the Hero’s Chamber!”
“But nobody ever comes back from the Chamber!” Andrew exclaimed, turning white and pleading, “Am I gonna die?! What am I supposed to do?!”
Mr. Miller smiled, saying, “It’s all right Andrew, you weren’t actually there, it just feels like it. You’re gonna be fine,” he trailed off with a chuckle.
“But I was there.”
“Pretty good magic trick, huh?”
“That was incredible! How long was I there?”
“How long do you think you were there?”
“I guess about an hour, maybe a little more.”
“See that candle?” Mr. Miller asked, pointing to the candle on the center table. “It’s down by more than half since you opened the book. You were trapped for more than two hours.”
“Two hours? It sure didn’t feel like two hours!”
Mr. Miller took out his tobacco pouch and grabbed his pipe off the table. While he filled his pipe, he convinced Andrew to go upstairs and get some sleep; they were leaving at first light.