The Rise

by Nathan Parks

  “OH! Actually!”

  “Shut it! Yes, actually! What I am trying to say is that not many people understand what we do. Even less would consider me sane if I tried to describe it. So, dating is not the easiest.”

  He put his hand up to stop her, “So, since the dating pool is small because of what we do, I get the short straw?”

  Her eyes twinkled, “Yes, that is what I am saying!”

  “Well, that is fair.”

  She sat and waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. He just sat looking at her.

  “I guess that is it.”

  “What is?”

  “Damn it, Chad! Stop making this difficult!”

  “Are you saying you want to date me?”

  She pounded her thighs with both fists.

  “Yes! That is exactly what I am saying.”

  He stood up and walked over to her. He knelt in front of her and took her hands in his.

  “What took you so long to catch on?”

  “Oh . . . I hate you!”

  “Now, that is the perfect way to define our relationship!”

  She laughed and threw her arms around him. She felt his chest rise and fall and felt secure being held by him. She didn’t need him to feel secure; she was her own woman . . . but it also felt so very good.

  “So, are you going to tell me what it is that you think you are on to?”

  The moment was gone, and he was back on his feet being Chad as he became really animated.

  “Yes! So, remember when we found Victoria?”

  She nodded, “Sure, can’t forget that!”

  “While we were in the receiving area of the Warehouse, I happened to pick this up.”

  He handed her a small medallion which had a leather string attached to it.

  “I didn’t think too much of it, except that it was the only thing that resembled any insignia that night.”

  “I remember,” she stated as she looked at it closer. “None of those we looked at that night had any Clan markings at all.”

  “Right! That is why this really stood out to me!”

  She looked at it as her fingers traced a dragon with a gaping mouth. In its mouth was the symbol of the sun, and there was the Roman numeral 14 on it. She handed it back to him.

  “So, what is it?”

  “That is the part I am trying to figure out. You see, we have never seen that much Clan activity without a House being over it all. Yet . . .”

  “There was no House represented.”

  “We thought that because it has always been evident with any of the Clans: they display their House insignias almost like gang signs most of the time.

  What if this is a new generation of Familiars and Fallen? What if this . . .” he motioned with the medallion, “is the insignia?”

  Serenity leaned forward and waved her hand toward him, asking to see it again. She looked at it but saw nothing that she didn’t see the first time. The Clans had been formed shortly after the War of the Serpents. Each had been given a mark that the Houses adopted as symbols of their authority and family influence. This did not look like any of those.

  “What would it mean, though?”

  “Ah, that is what started my ‘midnight oil burning’ session tonight. I started doing some research.” He pointed to the laptop behind her, “There are a few ideas that I have.”

  He got up and motioned for her to get up and let him sit down. With a grin, she only moved enough to give him a sliver of the chair on which to sit. She rested her chin on his shoulder so that she could look over it and see what he was doing. He typed in a few things and clicked on a link.

  “Look here,” he pointed at the screen. “Now, don’t laugh; just listen. What I have so far is just quickly jotted-down notes and then following the string to see where it leads.”

  “Ok, I get it,” she smiled.

  He was fully zoned in on what he was sharing. His excitement billowed around him.

  “So, I started with looking up ‘dragon.’ We all know about dragons, but I wanted to see what the dragon, sun, and even the number 14 meant. As I started looking up the word ‘dragon,’ I remembered something that we have seen over and over within ancient manuscripts and prophecies that the Alliance keeps talking about. There are many texts that talk about the return of the dragon or dracon. Now, I am not a linguist; but I found out that ‘dracon’ is actually a derivative of ‘dragon.’”

  “A regular Sherlock Holmes!” Serenity rolled her eyes.

  “Seriously . . . wait!” He continued, “So, we know the sun is used in many of the original Clan insignias, so that leads me to tie it into the Clans. This left me with the number 14.”

  “Wait . . . there are fantasy novels galore out there with dragons in them. So, just because you looked up ‘dragon’ and tied it into ‘dracon,’ doesn’t mean . . .”

  Chad threw his hands up, mocking defeat, “Are you going to let me finish?”

  “Yup.”

  She shut her mouth and pretended to zip it.

  “So, I found two noteworthy bits of information about the number 14. One deals with an Egyptian myth about Osiris. The mythology states that the god Osiris was killed by his brother and cut into . . . get this . . . 14 pieces!”

  Serenity did not look amused, excited, or even stirred. She continued looking at him, waiting for more. So far, this sounded like the delusions of a man who needed more sleep.

  “Ok, the 14 pieces were brought back together so that he could be brought back to life! He was; and according to mythology, he became the ruler of the underworld.”

  “Ok?”

  “You aren’t seeing it, are you?”

  She shook her head, “Nope.”

  “Oh, come on, Serenity! Who rules the Underworld?”

  “Mantus?”

  “YES! When I tell you that a persona of evil is divided into many, who do you think of?”

  “Legion . . . but he is gone.”

  “Yes, but not the part that is imprisoned in the . . .”

  “The Abyss!”

  “Or also known as?”

  “The Underworld?”

  He clapped his hands together, “You see now?”

  She thought for a moment and cocked her mouth to one side.

  “No, not really. I mean, we already knew that the prophecy was talking about Legion. What do you think we all have been talking about now for days?”

  “I get that, but this looks like it is a direct link to Legion . . . oh, and a good chance a new Clan dedicated to him!”

  Suddenly, it was as if a light bulb turned on in her head.

  “Wait! Holy hell! Hecate is not looking to turn over her Clan; but instead, she is looking to raise a whole new Clan for Legion!”

  He nodded, “I think so!”

  “But, like I said, for the most part, he is gone! The portion of him that is in the Abyss . . .”

  “We have to make sure he never gets freed, or we will be dealing with a new rise of demonic warfare! If the House of Hecate and a new House of Legion join together, there will be no chance of beating that powerhouse!”

  “We need to share this with the others.”

  “I agree; but I suggest we wait for Isaiah, Tanisha, and Eve to get here tomorrow.”

  “You stated earlier, though, that you are still working on the missing puzzle piece. Isn’t it right here?”

  Chad picked up the medallion.

  “Part of it. Nothing with the Clans is ever that simple. I still think we are missing something; but this is a start, for sure.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Kadar sat alone in what used to be Hecate’s study. He looked over, his eyes coming to rest on the place where he was used to watching Cerberus lie, guarding the lady of the house. He was still stunned!

  Even living through the passage of time, some things just seemed as if they would never change; they were a constant. Hecate had seemed to be one of those very things. True, there were always hopes, plans, and deals bein
g made in an attempt to minimize her and her power, but he didn’t think there was anyone who really ever thought she would be killed. He couldn’t get the image of this goddess with her head resting backward, the spurts of blood slowing down, and the image of a once-laughed-at lackey taking on the mantle of a full Clan Overlord.

  “Nothing ceases to amazes me, yet amaze me all at the same time,” he whispered to himself.

  He pondered getting up and pouring himself a drink; but right now, he did not want to move. His arms felt like lead pipes, and his feet seemed to be encased in cement.

  The door to the study slid on rails from which they hung, and he turned to look in that direction as he heard them start moving. He had to catch his breath; he couldn’t help but let a verbal expression escape his lips.

  “Wow!” he spoke, almost in a whisper.

  Yes, she had changed. She had commanded the music stage for so long, belting out amazing rock songs, creating a sense of delirious anger and lust all at once, but now . . . now she was stepping out onto a stage much bigger than for what she was created.

  Denora was dressed in a new outfit, changing her appearance to match the air of authority into which she was stepping. Her dark hair was pulled back tightly, and across her eyes she had used black theatrical makeup to paint a thick band. It gave a strong, authoritative, evil visual. The new outfit that she now wore was a comprehensive blend of chainmail and functionality. He had never actually considered her to be attractive; but within one moment, that had changed.

  “You can put that drooling dog tongue of yours back in your mouth. You are not my type, Kadar.”

  She walked in and sat down behind the desk. She picked up a trinket here and there, looked at it, and then unceremoniously tossed each of them into the trash.

  “I must say that, other than for a few things here and there, Hecate had horrible taste!” Denora stated simplistically.

  The Nephelium snickered at her remark, “Yeah, but when you can have anything and everything, I guess your taste starts needing an expansion.”

  “What are you saying . . . that she did have good taste and I haven’t sat in this seat long enough to acquire such a flare?”

  “Maybe . . . but what we need to be talking about is what is next?”

  “You are onboard, then?”

  “I won't be your puppet, if that is what you are asking. I am willing to be a partner, if the plan is attractive; but I won’t be your puppet. I know that you do not like me nor my kind, but the truth is that the Nephelium are a part of who you are, who the Clans are.”

  He raised his hand to stop her from interrupting, “Before you say anything . . . just like you, we came from a Clan. Just like you, although with the support of my Clan, I took out the Overlord of our house. We are here. Because the other houses have kept us from coming out of the shadows, there is not a single one of you who truly know our numbers. Also, because we are creatures of both mortal and immortal, we are able to maintain our secrecy better than anyone.

  “If you think this is a threat, don’t; but also understand that the time when we remain in the shadows is gone. The time when we establish ourselves within the hierarchy of the Clans once again is fast approaching.”

  Denora leaned back as she listened. “Ok, so what are you trying to tell me, Kadar?”

  “You have our support in this, whatever it is you are doing; but the moment you believe we are the old, broken band of misfits, will be the time where you slip.”

  She waved her hand nonchalantly in the air, “Fair.”

  He paused for a moment and then leaned forward.

  “I have a question that really needs to be answered.”

  “Ask away.”

  “You told Hecate that what I said about Legion was not true and, in fact, blamed your actions on the guidance of Legion. Sure, what we heard was rumors, but my sources told me that it was certain that Legion had been destroyed. So, what is the truth?”

  Denora didn’t answer right away but chose, instead, to ponder the way to answer the question. She looked at the Nephelium. She could understand him in many ways. He had fought his way to where he was. He had been treated as a sidekick, a hired-hand, an enforcer. She admired, though, that he had taken what he had and smashed his way to where he was today.

  “I will say this to you, Kadar. I don’t know the real answer to that question. What I do know is that Hecate sent me to do something for her in Austria. While I was there, I was visited by a teen girl who came in the form of a congress of ravens. How did I know it was Legion? I just did. It was things she said, not to mention the ability to disperse herself into a number of black birds.”

  “So, you believe that this teenager is the incarnate version of Legion?”

  “I do. She told me that she needed me to take out Hecate.”

  Kadar sat back and contemplated this.

  “You know that doesn’t make any sense to me. Hecate had a plan to release Legion. Sure, she had some major gaps. However, she was working on it; and I believe, if given the time, she would have figured it out. What that plan was, I’m not fully sure; but it was there. Then, from everything I heard, Leah and her group took out Legion in a pretty epic battle.”

  She shrugged, “I don’t know. I do know that I believe whom I saw was Legion; but either way, here I am.”

  “Ok, so what happens when—if that was Legion—he comes . . . I mean she comes . . . for her Clan?”

  She looked at him. He had no clue! The assassin spent so much time with his hands in the cookie jar all this time yet never understood what ingredients were going into the new batch of dough!

  “This is so much bigger than you understand, Half Bre . . .” She stopped herself. “Nephelium, you have no idea what is really going on.”

  “I guess not! So, willing to enlighten me?”

  “Sure, but what you think you know, you will discover has been a smokescreen to almost everyone.”

  “Ok.”

  “I will start off by saying this, Kadar: from the moment that you met with Eve in that café, Hecate has manipulated almost everyone, including those in the Alliance! No one—I dare say even me—has known her full intent or plan. Everyone knew enough to make them believe that they saw prophecy taking place. So many pawns believed that they had a chance to clear the board; but the queen was drawing each pawn, bishop, and even a king here and there into her spiderweb of twisted and mental derangement. The issue, however, is that the queen of the board did not suspect the rook would not protect her.”

  “I take it you were the rook?”

  “I was until I became the queen, and now I am relying on you to be my rook; but I promise you that I will not take you as lightly as the former queen did.”

  “Fair enough. So, show me the board.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Mantus stood outside the cell that held Metatron. His mind went back over what Ash had said to him in their meeting. It had been so clear where he was headed, but then the words that Ashmedai had spoken to him hit home.

  Could there be a future where he left the Abyss, able to stand again within the ranks of the Fallen on a regular basis? The question that Ash had asked him about being what he used to be haunted him. He felt he could, but could he really?

  “Do you know what one of the hardest lessons any Mortal struggles with, Mantus?”

  He looked up at the door in front of him as the prisoner inside spoke to him. He reached over and unlocked and unlatched the door. The heavy metal cell door came open just a little bit, and he pulled at it to open it up enough for him to walk in.

  “No, Metatron. I do not.”

  Metatron looked more Mortal at this moment than he had in ages. He looked worn, weary, tired; but his eyes were still alert. He patted the bench beside him, motioning for Mantus to have a seat.

  “Listen, I didn’t know you before your exile, Mantus, but I will say there are still stories shared about your bravery, your strength, and, yes, even your tenderness when it was neede
d. When I walked this earth, I was troubled by the judgment of Mortals against other Mortals; it was as if the more they judged another, the less they felt guilty about their own actions. The judgment from others never compares to the judgement with which we judge ourselves. Mankind is notorious for creating an avalanche of personal judgment that continues down a slippery slope, gaining speed and creating destruction from which many cannot break out.

  “Now, with that, if one could learn that we are whom we create ourselves to be, then that allows opportunity to break out from the past and build the future. This requires some hard changes, though, and a belief that we are in control rather than life in control of us. When, as mortal man, we understood this, we could then begin to crawl and scratch our way back up the mountain on which we once stood.”

  “I see.”

  “Do you? I can see you are troubled. No, this is not a mad attempt to influence you to let me go. This is not some insane trap that I wish to set to trick you, win your trust, and escape. This is me doing what I have always done.”

  “What is that, Metatron?”

  “Caring. Some say it is a flaw, but I see it as a strength and a purpose. Sure, it has left me with some pain; but I have seen the chance to leave something behind inside the existence of each and every being I run into. I don’t believe in chance or fate. I believe that we are the pilot of our destiny; and mine has been to change those I interact with, help them see a bigger picture or version of who they are.”

  Mantus was so tired. He leaned his head against the cell wall. He envied Metatron, once a Mortal, given eternal life, and now seeming to be outside of the machine of power and temptation.

  “Why are we here? When Hecate started her serpent deception, I believed every bit of it. I was smarter than that, Metatron! Why did I just go along with her like a lamb to the slaughter?”

  “No matter Eternal or Mortal, we all want something better; and many times, we fail to see that where we are and what we have is exactly where we need to be and what we need to have at the time. We push things, dictate things. We flip a switch within us, explaining to ourselves that what we are doing is what needs to be done right now, subsequently squashing the voice deep within us that is whispering ‘calm, cool, and collective.’ It is telling us to just be present; but then the voice of self screams louder, like a spoiled toddler. We know what is right, but what is right is not always the loudest voice. The loud screaming out of our selfish desires becomes maddening. We fail to move and act upon it to shut that voice up. We believe it because it is the loudest voice on the platform of our life.”