by Jared Stone
As soon as he could get there, Lucian walked into the hospital and was immediately overwhelmed with the sickening stench of disinfectant and latex. Despite his terror when confronted with a needle, Lucian had never been the type to get queasy in hospitals. In this specific instance, however, his nerves could be felt in the pit of his stomach as he walked up to the front desk, and he was afraid he would vomit right there on the nice-looking lady behind it. Reaching up, he placed his hand on his chest and could feel the crystal pendant through his shirt; this provided a slight sense of relief and was the only reason Lucian could remain standing there.
“Hello,” Lucian said in greeting, wearing a fake grin and forcibly suppressing his urge to turn and run out. “My name is Lucian Aarden. One of my friends, Blake, is here in the hospital, and I was told that he was allowed to have visitors now.”
“Oh, yes,” replied the woman, smiling kindly. “It’s so nice that so many of his friends care so much about him!” Pointing to her right, she said, “If you go down this hallway, his room number is 423.”
Thanking the woman, Lucian turned and headed to the room she had indicated. His mind began to wander, puzzling over who else would have already come to visit his roommate. Lucian knew Blake’s parents had been there over the weekend to watch over him, but he couldn’t think of anyone else who would have known Blake that well, considering that he was only a freshman. When Lucian arrived at the correct door, he saw that it was already open and accessible to guests who wished to visit.
Walking in, Lucian could see that someone already sat on the bed beside Blake. The muscular blonde guy in a red and black athletic jacket smiled broadly as he saw Lucian enter.
“Lucian!” said Sam, standing up to face him as he came near. “What a surprise! I’m so glad to see you here!”
Lucian smiled back, feeling the familiar giddiness that normally accompanied their interactions. As he met Sam’s stare, the two of them shook hands enthusiastically.
“I was just here chatting with Blake for a bit,” Sam continued, motioning over to the bed where the boy lay. “Telling him how much we all missed him on campus. Isn’t that right, Lucian?”
Putting his hand on Lucian’s shoulder, Sam pulled Lucian toward him in a display of camaraderie. At this, Lucian’s heart began to race wildly in his chest. He smiled back toward the older boy and said, “That’s right!” He could feel that he was visibly blushing again.
“Well, Lucian, it’s a pity that Blake can’t remember anything about the last couple of months. I was trying to ask all sorts of questions, but he just can’t recall,” Sam said. “But I’m happy you’re here now, cuz I’ve got a presentation for class I’ve gotta get to.” As he said this, he motioned with his thumb toward the door.
“Well, thanks for coming,” Blake chimed in meekly for the first time since Lucian’s arrival. His tone didn’t match his words as he said this, and he lay completely unanimated on the bed. Lucian was immediately struck by the alteration in Blake’s speech now that he was free of demonic influence; it was certainly the same voice as always, yet it no longer possessed the harsh, merciless quality it once had.
“Don’t mention it, buddy!” Sam responded cheerily. “You just rest up and get better!”
Turning to Lucian, Sam said, “It’s been really good seeing you, Lucian. Like I said, we have to grab dinner together or something soon!”
“Definitely!” Lucian responded back a little too enthusiastically.
With this, Sam patted Lucian on the shoulder one last time and walked out the door, leaving the two younger boys alone in the room. Lucian stood for a moment looking at the door through which Sam had just left, then turned to face Blake.
The tall, dark-featured boy sat gloomily with his legs stretched out before him on the hospital bed. He appeared almost meek and fearful, and Lucian wondered if Blake had always been so seemingly beaten down, or if a profound personality change had occurred. Some kind of device was attached to his right index finger, and this was connected to an instrument panel behind the bed that rhythmically beeped at a very low volume. Other than this, it was almost impossible to discern that anything had ever happened to the boy, with the sole exception of the ragged look on his face. As Lucian surveyed the scene before him, Blake stared back at him silently. To avoid the situation growing awkward, Lucian decided he should speak up.
“So, I know you don’t really know me…,” began Lucian hesitantly. “But I was supposed to be your roommate this semester.” He hesitantly stepped forward a few paces toward where Blake lay, but stopped short of standing directly next to the bed. It was odd to see Blake’s body lying there so placidly. Every time Lucian had encountered it before, it had tried to kill him, and Lucian still experienced a residual fight-or-flight stimulus.
Blake remained silent, looking down at his hands folded in his lap. The only sound that could be heard was the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed and the background beeping of the heart monitor. Lucian decided to continue.
“I… I’m glad that you’re starting to feel better, at least!” Lucian heard himself say this and realized that it sounded like a pathetic excuse to continue the one-sided conversation.
Raising his head, Blake looked Lucian right in the eyes. “Thanks for saving me…,” he said quietly.
Lucian’s mouth practically dropped to the floor.
“What do you mean?” he asked, feigning ignorance in case he had misinterpreted Blake’s comment.
“I remember everything…,” Blake stated seriously. Lucian was too dumbfounded to respond. “I told everyone I don’t remember what happened, because I don’t know who I can trust anymore. But I know I can trust you, Lucian.”
Lucian just stood there speechlessly for a moment. Collecting himself, he was able to string together, “You remember everything?”
“Everything,” Blake affirmed assuredly. “The coin, and Zagan, and the dagger… and the fighting.” Blake tilted his head down at this last part, almost as if he was ashamed of what had occurred. “I was conscious the whole time, but couldn’t really do anything.”
Lucian was shocked, but also felt a certain sense of relief at this revelation. Keeping all of this a secret from Blake would have been far too difficult a task for him, especially if they were still destined to live together. That is, if Blake even planned to return to school that year.
“Well,” Lucian said, “at least Zagan’s gone. It’s all over now!” He smiled brightly at Blake as he said this.
“No…,” responded Blake, tilting his head back up and looking Lucian straight in the eye with a stern countenance. “This was only the beginning….”
* * *
Sam exited the hospital and glanced around. The entrance to the building was quiet that afternoon, and only a few people came and went without ceremony. The handsome boy quickly jogged down the stairs and around the front of the building, toward an alleyway off to the side. His tall muscular frame moved swiftly, and the wind blew his golden hair away from his forehead in elegant waves.
Coming to a stop in the deserted back alley, Sam stepped beside a dumpster and leaned up against the wall. Looking around him quickly, the older boy reached into his jacket and pulled something out of an abnormally large inner pocket. As he placed the item on his face, the gold of the mask reflected the minimal sunlight shining into the darkness of the alley. His hazel eyes were all that could be seen of his otherwise hidden features.
“It is done, My Lord,” he said, seemingly to the empty space before him. “The boy still lives, but seems to remember nothing. He certainly does not recognize me without the mask.”
He paused for a minute and tilted his head, as if he was listening to a response. Then, nodding once in affirmation, the man in the golden mask said, “Yes. The pawn has been sacrificed. It is time to move the bishop into play.”
Another period of silence followed, after which the masked man resolutely said, “Understood.” With this, Samael removed the mask again, placed it ins
ide his coat, and began walking down the alley, chuckling to himself confidently.
Epilogue
Wednesday, November 12th
As Lucian waited anxiously by the panda enclosure for his epic showdown with Zagan, Panhavant sat peacefully in meditation beneath his tree in Deer Park. With eyes closed, the enlightened one seemed completely removed from the world which his body inhabited. He made no movement as the blonde boy dressed in a black and red athletic jacket stepped beneath the canopy of leaves and stood before him.
“You are here…,” whispered Panhavant. He slowly opened his eyes but kept his body completely still.
“It has been many ages since we last met, Great Tathāgata,” replied Samael in a respectful tone.
“We are here now,” Panhavant countered.
“Indeed,” stated the handsome boy, looking around at the little universe beneath the tree. “I am pleased that you have allowed a fallen one such as myself to enter your temple.”
“Beautiful begets ugly. Good begets bad,” the sage responded with a slight nod of his head.
“What you say is true,” affirmed Samael. “You and I are no different from one another. We both seek to emancipate all beings from this damned prison of suffering.” The boy then grinned. “However, our methods shall prove to be much more effective and expedient.”
Panhavant closed his eyes again and remained silent for a moment. “You are already free,” he solemnly stated.
The boy’s grin faded from his face. “Few are able to cast off their defilements as you have, Tathāgata,” replied Samael regretfully. “We who have fallen from grace are not so easily saved. My Lord has only compassion for the beings of this realm and seeks to liberate them from the unending pain of existence to which He, too, is subjected.”
Opening his eyes once more, the tiny sage sat still and gazed sorrowfully at his visitor. “I cannot give the moon,” he said.
“We all must walk our own path,” Samael asserted quietly. He paused for a moment before seemingly snapping out of a daze and taking on a more official persona. “However, now to the matter at hand: my subordinate has informed me that you have actively interfered with his attempts at eliminating the Kílán, Argus, and the boy with whom he travels, Lucian. This is highly irregular, and I would request that you refrain from such interference in the future.”
The old man smiled lightly as his visitor finished speaking. Looking up at Samael, Panhavant simply stated, “All things spring up without expectation.”
“I understand that you act solely in accordance with the natural flow of the universe. But what is so special about this boy, Lucian?” Samael inquired of the old master. “I have searched but have found nothing extraordinary for which one such as you would willingly alter the course of the Way.”
Panhavant just remained silent after this, seemingly looking into the depths of the individual before him in such a way as to suggest that there would be no further answer.
“Whatever your rationale,” responded Samael with frustration, “you and I both know that the time foretold by The Prophet is nigh. A great upheaval of world order shall take place, and from the chaos a savior shall arise. He shall lead His children to a new state of existence, free from desire, anger, and ignorance. A paradise of Nirvana.” The boy looked up as he said this, as if experiencing some kind of divine vision, then quickly looked back down toward the shriveled elder before him. “My Lord cannot achieve this aspiration if you continue to meddle in our affairs.”
“This all is perfect,” replied the tiny sage, scanning his eyes across his surroundings. “He who changes destroys. He who grasps loses.”
“That which must happen shall happen,” Samael responded assuredly. “But it is not your place to insert yourself into mortal affairs. I have already dispatched my disgraceful peon on a fool’s errand this evening under the assumption that he shall be disposed of promptly by your comrades. We have no further use for him in our grand design, and I would be much happier to see him destroyed or sealed away again.”
“All in accordance with the Way,” Panhavant said. “Nothing is done so that all may be accomplished.”
“Please see to it that that is so,” replied Samael bluntly. With a slight bow of his head in deference, the boy turned away from the old man on the ground and strode toward the limits of the shadow beneath the branches. Before exiting, he paused and turned around again.
“You do realize that the boy shall not understand if things go awry…,” he added, almost remorsefully.
“Attachment begets suffering,” the sage affirmed.
After this, there was only silence, and Samael then left the little universe under the tree.
Panhavant continued to sit until he appeared before a sobbing, desperate Lucian.