by Lee Magnus
“It’s dead and alive at the same time,” Trey mumbled.
“What was that?” Karim asked Trey. “Did you say something about being dead?”
“It is a theory by a famous physicist. Schrodinger theorized that if you placed a cat in a box with something that could kill it, it would be both dead and alive at the same time. It would only be either when the box is opened to perceive the animal’s state.”
“So, in a sense, it is both dead and alive?” Karim responded in a confused manner.
“Exactly,” replied Trey.
“Karim. Please gather two camels for Trey’s journey,” Olerand said handing Karim a bag of gold pieces. He took the bag then quickly left the room.
Returning his attention to Olerand he said, “Ok. Let’s get this straight, I have to go do something that I’ve already done?”
“Yes. You have perceived it in your mind. You know what to do,” said Olerand.
“No!” Trey panicked. “No, I don’t! The dream was incomplete. I tried to tell you that last time we spoke. I only found the woman and child. I don’t know what I did to save them. That’s why I sent Karim for you! You have to tell me what to do!”
“I know not what you did. I only witnessed the destruction. Trey, I must implore, if you don’t remember what you did and fail, you will not exist. You have to remember. You must succeed in this instance or the entire time continuum as you know it will change, and…” he looked away with a miniscule tear in his eye, “my sole purpose for existing will die a fiery death.”
“So, I’m once again on my own.”
“I’m afraid so,” replied Olerand. “You must be off. You have a long journey ahead. But first, I will give you this.” Olerand handed Trey a small black orb that was soft and cold to the touch. It was small enough to fit into his closed hand. “Smash this and all telepathically controlled entities will be temporarily incapacitated.”
“Great! This will definitely be handy,” replied Trey with a smile as he secured it in a pocket.
“You must protect them, Trey,” Olerand commanded.
“I will. I will do everything I can.”
Karim returned and said, “I have the camels.”
“Tie them together,” Olerand directed.
“Trey. Have you ever ridden a camel?” asked Karim.
“I’ve been on a horse.”
“What’s a horse?” Karim asked.
“Seriously? You’ve never seen a horse?”
“No.”
“It’s sort of like a small camel without a hump.”
“And you ride them?”
“I have, but not often.”
“I am interested to learn more about the strangeness of the future.”
“Don’t worry, buddy. You’ll learn plenty about the future,” Trey said with a knowing smile.
Karim and Olerand in disguise walked Trey to the northern edge of the village. The fastest way will be to take a north by northwest route through the desert. All you need to do is keep Memphis and the plateau to your east and you should easily arrive at the village.
Trey looked up at Olerand, then said, “I don’t think I can do this. I just don’t know what to do. I feel like I’m going to my death.”
“That may very well be so, but you have no choice. No one can do this for you,” Olerand replied. “You must save our family. Please be careful. Act swiftly and confidently.”
“Thanks, Master Olerand. Will I see you again?”
“No. I’m afraid this is our last encounter in this timeline.”
Trey rushed to hug him tightly.
“Now be gone, boy! Time is not on your side!” Olerand commanded.
“Good luck, Trey!” Karim said. “I hope to see you again!”
“If I make it through this, I’m certain you will!”
Karim lifted Trey onto the lead camel, then tapped it on the rear to get it going. The camel let out a loud gurgling groan before it eased off with the other trailing behind.
Karim and Olerand watched for nearly ten minutes as Trey rode off into the horizon. Afterward, Olerand turned to Karim, then said, “Now for your part.”
Karim returned a curious expression before they walked back to the house.
Believe Before You See
Trey travelled in a dusty desert pathless direction for several hours deep in thought. He replayed vivid dreams in his mind, desperately looking for the answer that would save him from impending demise. His thoughts travelled from the dreams to his friends to his mom. Sadness filled his heart as he ached to be with her again. Sadness like watching the last fading petal fall from a lonesome rose which once held tremendous beauty.
If I could have but hugged Mom one last time. Had she known that would be the last time, would she have loved me any greater? If I could have spoken to dad – I miss him so much.
Soft tears streamed down his face. Unashamed in solitude, he let them fall onto the scorched desert as he stared thoughtlessly in deep sorrow. The muffled thud, thud, thud of the camel’s steps in the sand played a backbeat to his heart’s desire.
He woke from the daze with a camel’s groan. He noticed the sun remained to his upper left as the plateau formed far to the east. It brought an ominous feeling as he recalled the dream upon the cliff’s edge.
“The sun is just higher than what I remember in the dream! I have to get moving! I may have less than an hour before the village is ravaged!”
He prodded the camels to pick up speed. Setting an easy trot, he settled back into the saddle scanning anxiously ahead for signs of the village.
~~
Ruminating in his chamber room, Olerand awaited the call when a knock at the door broke his meditation.
“SahRa requests your presence!” commanded a harsh voice.
Olerand stood, replaced his hood, then walked with the messenger to a garden just outside the royal quarters.
“Master Olerand,” addressed King Khaitu standing nearly seven feet tall with a full thick wavy black beard which tapered gracefully to a rounded point several inches below his chin. His open tunic embroidered with light weight black armor on the shoulders and sleeves, revealed a light brown chest covered to the neck in ancient hieroglyphs that seemed to shift with each muscular movement. He was striking as a man – an evil and powerful handsome man.
“Yes, SahRa?”
“Come with me. We have much to discuss.”
“As you wish, SahRa.”
Khaitu spoke with elegance in a low toned voice as they walked through the lively plots. Long flowing black hair trailed down sculpted cheeks as he spoke downward to Olerand. “These vegetables, Olerand, they grow in the dirt I provide. They consume the nutrients I feed them. They survive on the light I allow to penetrate them. These vegetables grow because I permit them to grow. They live because I deem it possible for them to do so. For that, they are grateful to be eaten by my people. That is their purpose, to be eaten. Otherwise, they would not exist. I would not allow them to live if they served no benefit to the kingdom.”
Olerand walked in stride without acknowledging Khaitu’s words with emotion or reaction.
“Furthermore, this garden is like my kingdom. It is orderly. Each plot has a specific purpose that serves the greater good of the kingdom. However, it requires regular pruning. The dead and dying must be removed for the whole to survive and prosper. More importantly, if an invasive species, such as the lotus weed were to proliferate, the threat of it rapidly spreading throughout the remaining plots is great. Therefore, it must be plucked and destroyed.”
The imposing figure turned to Olerand with blazing yellow eyes, then continued, “There is a lotus weed emerging in Saqqara. It wishes to grow and spread revolution throughout the kingdom.” He paused, then said with a wide sinister grin, “You and I will go there and pluck it from the garden.” He placed a gauntleted hand onto Olerand’s depressed shoulder. They vanished in a wispy black fog.
~~
Trey’s eyes widened when the village
came into view. As he drew near, the thicket became prominent on the west side.
“Hopefully, I’ll remember what to do when I get there.”
He spurred the camels to a run. Amid multiple bellows and groans from the galloping ungulates, Trey contemplated his rapidly approaching fate.
He entered the thicket from the south. After dismounting and tying the lead camel to a tree, he slowly approached the edge closest to the village.
A peaceful day permeated the bustling village sitting a football field away.
He looked back at a slowly sinking sun and said, “I don’t have much time. Think, Trey! What do I do! What did I do?”
He spread the few items he possessed onto the ground, then said in frustration, “None of this stuff will help me save those people or defeat Khaitu!”
He sat before the items, closed his eyes in failure, then said in exasperation, “I’ve come this far just to fail now? I should’ve let Commerand kill me. Then this whole thing would be done!”
He closed his eyes and held his head in capitulation. He opened them and said, “Wait a minute. I have to first believe it before I can see it,” he said in a hopeful tone. “That’s it! I have to believe before I see!” He stood up and said, “I hope this works!”
He recalled the dream where he followed the wolf through the village and tried to remember each intricate detail.
“Ok, Trey! You can do this! Let’s go save your ancestors from a scorching death!” he said attempting to motivate himself to action.
~~
From a cloud of black smoke, Khaitu and Olerand emerged before the lively desert village. Olerand’s heart sank. He didn’t expect to arrive so quickly.
He thought to himself, I am afraid Trey had not enough time to prepare. My family is doomed if I can’t stop this madness.
“SahRa,” Olerand said wisely, “I will go into the town and make an example of the dissenters? That will be lesson enough to dissuade anyone else to plan a rebellion. We will spread the word to the surrounding villages. No one will question your wisdom and power.”
“No, Olerand,” Khaitu said calmly as he stared upon the village. “That is not enough. I will make this village a graveyard. When I am finished, it will only be suitable for the dead for millennia to come.”
“But, SahRa,” Olerand said maintaining his composure, “I must implore you reconsider.” These people are necessary for your projects. This village’s laborers are currently assigned to your monument. We cannot afford the time lost with their absence.”
“I have instructed Palomis to activate laborers from northern territories. They are arriving at the camps tomorrow.”
“SahRa! These people are valuable to your kingdom!”
“These people will die, and their ashes will scatter in the wind. This place, located so close to Memphis, will be an enduring reminder of the fate of those who plot against me.”
Khaitu turned cold evil eyes upon the meek looking Olerand, “Your incessant advice is becoming aggravating. Tell me, dear friend, what connection do you have with those insolent humans?”
Surprised at the accusation but thankful for the delay he replied, “I have no connection with them. I find humans interesting and useful. They are resourceful and moderately capable of solving problems on their own. I think it best to have as many around as possible to ensure the viability of your great kingdom.”
“Intelligent you say? Look at them down there, muddling around in their own self-worth. Each of them wishes to be better than the next. If given the opportunity, any would strike down the next to gain an advantage. It happens every day in these miserable villages. Their quest to be better than their brother, sister and friend naturally divides them. When they are divided, they are simple to rule.
“However, Olerand, if they were to organize. If they were to plan and work together, they could easily overthrow us no matter what magic we used upon them. Their numbers are too great. But they won’t do that as long as they believe they are separated from each other by family lines, village boundaries, social or economic status. That is the purpose of designing their social system in this manner. That is why we benefit some over others. We create envy, they create the separation. We create the illusion of protection, regardless of the hardships we actually put them through, and they accept the inordinate rules. Intelligent they are not. Otherwise, they would work together for the benefit of themselves and their race as a whole regardless of where they live, work, worship or play.”
“I see,” Olerand searched for words, “and you believe there is a group within this village that intends to organize?”
Khaitu turned his massive body to face his conscripted sorcerer. He looked upon him with such force that any mortal would have been crushed. “They have already organized, and the weed has spread to the upper ranks of my cabinet. The humans in this village are but a distraction from the greater purpose you serve. I summoned you into my service for a single task. That time is now threatened due to your weakness for a human. Tell me, Olerand. What were you doing in Dahshur today?”
Startled by the unexpected knowledge of his surreptitious activities but maintained a calm composure Olerand plead, “Surely you would not annihilate all those people for rumor and conjecture?”
“These people are of no concern to me nor the wretched souls in Dahshur. It is too late for mere humans to rise against me. My time as a mortal has come. My only focus is the red moon ceremony. You must complete the assignment. After which, you will return to her in the spirit world,” he said coldly as he removed, from a waist scabbard, the sword with completed disk firmly mounted in the pommel.
Khaitu’s face and skin dimmed to charcoal as the sword erupted into a dark red and orange blaze. Yellow eyes turned jet black. His hair and beard became alit in flames angled in the same direction of each strand. His body was consumed in a fiery hell.
Olerand rapidly retreated several steps to avoid the immense heat.
“SahRa! You mustn’t!”
Khaitu never heard the words as he was consumed with destruction and mayhem. He raised the flaming sword.
~~
Trey took a deep breath facing the items. He turned toward the village said “twenty” then sprang into a run.
“Nineteen,” Trey said as he dashed across the desert. “Eighteen – seventeen – sixteen.” He entered the village. “Fifteen,” he said out loud as he passed children kicking a ball. “Fourteen – thirteen,” as he rushed through the bazaar. He hurdled a group of chickens that were too slow to move out of his way. “Twelve,” as he passed the laughing man and an argument over a bag of grain. “Eleven,” he said uneasily as he was losing his breath when he turned left past a woman selling pottery.
“I’m too late!” he shrieked as he saw the great flaming object in the distance. The woman and child were just ahead. He ran with all his might. Each step propelled him farther and faster as he used every ounce of might to push his muscles to their maximum. “Ten!” he yelled as he slid in front of the startled and immensely frightened woman and infant like a baseball player stealing home plate. The baby cried furiously.
“Olerand sent me! You have to trust me!” he cried.
The woman looked at him with terrified eyes but nodded in agreement.
“Nine – eight,” he said turning toward the assault. The flaming object erupted into a brilliant light. Instinctively, Trey unsheathed the sword. He held it out as if defending a downward strike just before the melting ball of plasma engulfed the village.
~~
“HAHAHAHA!” the flaming demon roared at his moment of devastation.
Olerand fell to his knees in disbelief. Never had he seen such an atrocious example of power from Khaitu since the annihilation of King Ronodan and his army. But this time Olerand had a personal attachment to the destruction. Sheer horror pervaded his soul at how effectively the sea of molting plasma consumed the village. Shrieks and screams faded into pops and snaps like a campfire on a cold night. The old sorce
rer closed his eyes and wept for his lost loves.
Continuing to laugh in exhilaration, Khaitu sustained the raging torrent.
~~
Trey held firm a clear image in his mind of the storm of lava deflecting from his sword away from the village,
“Seven!”
The woman and infant screamed behind him. His arm wobbled, slowly receding to the volcanic flood. He supported it with the other at the wrist.
“Six!”
“Five!”
The melting heat became unbearable. His arms bent visibly at the elbows.
“Four!”
The image of the city in his mind faded to a small protective ball around him and his dependents. He weakly held unsteady ground.
“Three!”
The roaring blaze rushed over and around them drowning out all other sounds.
“Two!”
His feeble arms wavered. Heat ravaged his body. Flames licked his hands and arms in excruciating strokes. The horrible stench of burned skin and hair saturated his nostrils.
“Ooone!”
He was unable to focus. He lost the image in his mind. Consciousness faded. He collapsed.
Courage
The roar subsided. Trey laid on the ground surrounded by trees and bushes. A baby screaming and a woman sobbing became more and more present as he regained consciousness.
He rolled his head to see the woman and infant unharmed by the blaze. He rolled his head toward the village to find it engulfed in a lake of fire.
He cried profusely – unconcerned with the throbbing pain from burns throughout his body.
With tears still draining down his face, he turned to the woman and placed a blistered red hand over her mouth, “You must be quiet. He can’t know we’re here.”
She looked at him with wide light brown understanding eyes. She controlled her sobbing to a low muffle but couldn’t stop the tears. She immediately fed the infant to calm it down while she shakily rocked back and forth.
Trey held them both with his eyes closed as the destruction continued for several more seconds. A cloud of black smoke originating at the source of the fusillade signaled the end of the assault.