by Matt King
“Do not be alarmed,” she said.
“What kind of fool do you take me for?” answered Cerenus. His light pulsed as it moved around the globe. “I knew you were here as soon as you came through the synapse. I’m surprised to see you, Meryn. I assumed you’d be dying the noble death alongside Paralos by now.”
“I need to speak with you.” She came to a stop as she passed Vemaria’s moons.
“To me? I don’t remember you ever being much for talking, especially with me.”
“It is important.”
“Important to you.”
Eternity had done nothing to strengthen his maturity. “This war involves all of us, whether you like it or not.”
“No, I’m fairly certain your war doesn’t involve me at all.”
“Cerenus, please.”
Cerenus stopped. He retracted his canvas surrounding Vemaria and formed himself into a floating sphere of light in front of Meryn. “We can talk, but not out here. If it’s all the same to you, I wouldn’t mind a better view.”
She followed him down through the planet’s atmosphere, using the travel time to transform into her human state. Cerenus did the same. She moved to his right when she saw that he hadn’t bothered to cover himself completely beneath his garments. Such a child.
He guided her to a large island situated near the planet’s equator. It was remarkably lush with emerald landscapes gradually giving way to mountains in the north, where Cerenus built a castle befitting his ego. The estate spread in a grand expanse with its abundance of gold accents and crystal walls. She expected nothing less.
They arrived at the front gate, giving Cerenus the opportunity to stage a grand entrance. His people welcomed him with roaring acclaim. Meryn walked behind, allowing him to stand squarely in the spotlight of his design. He looked every bit the god, with his thick mane of yellow hair flowing over his jeweled golden armor and ceremonial cape. The women, especially, took delight in his presence. Meryn dressed herself in modest attire, choosing clothes that blended with the attendants forming around her host.
When they reached the banquet room, Cerenus ordered servants to bring them food. His tow-colored eyes were alive at the sight of the bountiful feast his house stewards brought from the kitchens.
“I don’t know why you do this,” Meryn said as she took her seat beside him at the table. “It is a waste.”
“Meryn, you can’t deny yourself the pleasures of food forever.”
“It does nothing but take food away from the people, food we do not need.”
“I don’t see them complaining.”
“That’s because they are scared of you. Why you felt the need to reveal yourself to them, I will never know.”
“Is that why you came here? To chide me for my behavior again?”
“No.” She paused to let the servants lay down a tray of fruit.
“So, how’s the war coming? Has Paralos pounded any sense into our beloved Lady of the Circle?”
Meryn didn’t answer.
“Well, it’s like that, is it?” Cerenus studied her. “Judging by your expression, I’d say you’ve already lost.”
“Things have not gone according to plan.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, my dear, but I can’t say I’m surprised. What is surprising is that you’d take time out to visit me. You’re the last person I expected to see out here.”
“I would not have come if it wasn’t important.”
Cerenus took a large bite out of a piece of red fruit. He chewed it loudly. “Okay, then,” he said. “Let’s get it out. What do you want?”
“I need an army.”
He stopped chewing. His lips parted in a moment of disbelief before he burst into laughter. “You’re joking!”
“I wish I were.”
Eyes wide, Cerenus looked around like he couldn’t wait to tell someone the news. “Let me see if I have this right: you went to war with the most powerful being in the universe and you didn’t think to prepare an army beforehand? What did Paralos say? I’m surprised he didn’t murder you on the spot!”
“He doesn’t know.”
Cerenus guffawed. “Well, this just keeps getting better and better. I hate to be the one to tell you this, Meryn, but there’s no solution to your considerable problem. You can’t ask me to give you an army. It’s against the rules.”
“We are fighting for our lives, Cerenus. I think rules and ceremony are the least of my worries.”
“They might not mean anything to you, but let me tell you what they mean to me: staying alive. The last thing I need is Amara punishing me because you weren’t prepared to pick a fight with her. And on that note, what were you thinking? Of all the gods to go to war with, you had to challenge the oldest and strongest.”
“She was the only one threatening to kill our order. Who would you have me fight instead?” She closed her eyes. “I never should have come here.”
“That’s the first sensible thing that’s come out of your mouth.”
She stood and walked away from the table. She hadn’t expected him to simply hand over his troops, but part of her thought that he might be more sympathetic to her cause. Convincing him was going to be expensive. She walked to the crystal wall facing the low hills of the coastline. The soft light it let through was meant to be welcoming, its brightness uplifting. She felt neither of those comforts. Her mood was more befitting the darkness of space. She thought about John Lawson and August back on Earth, trying to stay alive, and for what? Without an army, they were as good as dead.
“What if I offered you a portion of my stock for your army?” she asked.
“Let’s see. Uh…no.”
“Cerenus, you haven’t even heard my offer.”
“And unless it involves a few of your more mature worlds, you can save your energy.”
Meryn waited for him to finish his bite. “Which one would you like?”
“Oh my,” he said, laughing. “You are desperate.”
“I’m serious.”
His laughter died away, replaced by a curious glint in his eyes. “You’d give away any of your worlds?”
“You only need to name the one you want.”
“This sounds too good to be true. What if I said I wanted half?”
Meryn swallowed the response she wanted to give and nodded instead. “I would have to agree.”
“This almost isn’t fair. I could probably take your entire stock if I wanted to.”
“Yes. For one army, you could take it all.”
Her attempt at shaming him into taking less went unnoticed. He had a faraway look in his eyes as though he were already thinking of ways to incorporate his newfound wealth.
“That would make me nearly as powerful as Paralos,” he mused, talking more to himself than her.
“It would,” she answered anyway.
“Maybe more powerful. I bet I could even put a scare into Amara.”
“Cerenus, will you help me or not?”
The question snapped him out of his daydream. “How will you keep her from finding out about our deal?”
“I may not be much of a strategist,” she answered, “but I know how to keep a secret. After all, I was able to keep my plans away from her while she prepared for war with Paralos. She will not know. I think the bigger question is whether or not you can keep our secret.”
“A valid point. Then again, she never pays much attention to me. If anyone, she’ll probably suspect Balenor, not that his armies would help much. All right then, let’s move on to the—”
“Wait.”
“What’s the matter?”
“Before we go further, I have some stipulations.”
“Oh, by all means, let’s have them.”
“First,” she said, “you cannot re-claim the planet whose army I choose.”
“Ah, Meryn. You know me too well.”
“And you cannot choose Earth.”
He scoffed. “You don’t have to worry about that. I doubt there’ll be
anyone left once you’re done with that planet.”
“Last, I need a suit of armor.”
“Armor?” Cerenus raised an eyebrow. “Meryn, you’re not thinking of getting involved, are you?”
“It’s not for me. I need it for one of my champions.”
“A champion who needs armor doesn’t sound like much of a champion to me.”
“Cerenus…”
“All right, fine. I assume this is an Earth human you’re speaking of?”
“Yes.”
“Then you can have one of the pieces of armor from the castle guards. They’re very impressive protection, if I do say so myself. Is that all?”
“Those are my terms, yes.”
Cerenus took another piece of fruit from the tray. “We have a deal. I get half your worlds, minus the two you stipulated, and you get one of the finest fighting forces in the universe. So, which will it be? The Ysir? The Nerians? Or maybe something more sophisticated. My royal guard, perhaps?”
“I don’t want any of those,” she replied, leaning forward. “Give me the Orphii.”
The excitement drained from Cerenus’ face, replaced with a suspicious look that she knew she had earned. “How curious that you have heard of them,” he said in a flat tone.
On her way to the Vemarian system, she had planned her strategy carefully to secure her prize. All hinged on her ability to guard the identity of her chosen army until Cerenus had agreed to the terms. Keeping secrets came easy to her. Revealing them, as she now faced, was much more difficult.
“Before Ule’s revolt,” she explained, “Amara thought it wise to gain as much knowledge as she could about each member of the Circle. She said she could not rule effectively if she did not understand the plights of her subjects.”
“She had you spying for her, in other words.”
Even though she’d suspected it at the time, she was never able to think it freely in the presence of Amara. “Yes,” she told him. “Everything was to be recorded—the inhabitants, the potential for new life, the military strength…”
Cerenus snorted. “It’s no wonder Ule died as quickly as he did. He had no chance, thanks to you.”
She answered with silence. She needed no reminder of her part in Ule’s death.
“I suppose this means you won’t be needing an education on the Orphii race,” he continued.
“No,” she replied.
“Will you bind them all or only part?”
The Orphii were a race of creatures not far removed from the members of the Circle. Like the Circle, they were comprised entirely of energy, but they lacked the necessary components to truly manipulate the higher states of matter. The Orphii lived as unbound light. Viewed from afar, they resembled a glowing cloud in space. She had very nearly dismissed them as a remnant of a star’s explosion the first time she saw them. To take on a physical form, the Orphii first have to bind themselves to a form of matter. The transformation forms a permanent bond. Unbound, the Orphii would live forever, though only in a state of spatial confinement. Bound, their consciousness was tied to the matter they’d chosen, whatever its fate. It was a choice all Orphii faced. Live forever trapped in their minds or gain the freedom of the physical world, knowing its eventual cost.
“It would seem cruel to bind them all,” she said.
“Yes, indeed.” A sudden brightness returned to Cerenus’ eyes, but they seemed different to her now. Hollow, in some way. It was genuine before. Now he’s putting on a show.
He dropped back in his chair with a smile stretched across his face. “A deal has been forged,” he said. “You will have your army. I must say, I have a newfound respect for you, Meryn.”
Yes, I’m sure you do.
Cerenus took a piece of fruit from his plate and tossed it in the air. He looked lost in a dream. “The Orphii…,” he said wistfully before a laugh. “If only I could be there to see the look on Galan's face.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Makeshift rock chairs added a layer of difficulty to decision-making that Ray didn’t appreciate. He had, in fact, already made up his mind to die, but the uncomfortable rock he sat on wasn’t helping to clear his head. He felt fidgety, anxious. He tried shifting positions. The other side of the rock cut into his legs more than the first one did. Maybe that was just God’s way of telling him to do his business or get off the pot.
The river was up. Ray didn’t think it was swollen enough to cover the bridge along the trail. He went over his mental checklist one more time just to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. All the food was packed. His clothes were neatly tucked away in the tent. The last thing he had to do was also the one he wanted to spend the most time on. He took a small notebook from his jacket pocket along with a pen. Flipping to a clean page, he began to write down the reasons he was ending his life in the one place where he loved to live it.
He finished the last sentence just as the sun dipped below the tops of the trees. He probably had at least another hour or two of daylight left. That was enough. He picked up the oxygen tank at his feet and carried it with him to the tent. The zipper was stuck, as usual. He fought the snag until he got it open enough to drop the note inside. Ray hoped Bear would check there first before he went on a wild goose chase through the woods. He might’ve had a better chance of seeing the letter on the folding table, but mountain weather was never predictable enough to count on for dryness.
With his tasks complete, Ray stood and took a final look around the site. The place had been good to them. It gave them a home away from home when they needed it and room to spread out and enjoy the solitude when they needed that too. He walked over to the tree where they used to make a notch in the bark to track Bear’s height. He could still make out a few of the cuts, right up until the point where he couldn’t reach anymore. Ray ran his fingers over one, but quickly took his hand away before he got misty again. He’d spent enough time doing that.
The oxygen canister rolled noisily over the rocks on the way to the trailhead. He stopped beside a tree, parking the cylinder at its base. Opening the valve to full, he took a long, satisfying breath. He held it in for a moment, then removed the cannula from his ears and nose, setting it neatly against the roots. When he exhaled, he could already feel the tightness in his chest. He took it as a sign to get moving.
The western trail leading from the campsite followed the river until it reached the waterfall, becoming a series of switchbacks as it continued down the mountain. Ray didn’t plan on making it that far. He began his walk with thoughts of his childhood dog, Gus. Gus was a lap cat in a dog’s body, which made it all the more strange when he got up one night and went for a walk in the fields, never to return. Ray remembered when his dad came back with Gus’s body in the back of his truck. He cried like any boy would, but not just because he missed his pet. Part of his sadness was disappointment that Gus would rather die by himself than with the family that loved him. He couldn’t understand the reason until now.
The things he’d witnessed in the days since August arrived were beyond anything he ever thought possible, but that didn’t change the fact that he was holding Bear back. The coming war was just another aspect of Bear’s life that wouldn’t get his full attention because he felt the need to watch after his father. Ray loved him for it, but it was also his biggest regret. He wanted Bear to reach his potential. As he saw it, there was only one way to make that happen, and that was to remove himself as the barrier.
The waterfall should’ve only taken a couple of minutes to get to. He couldn’t make it a hundred feet before he had to stop to regain his breath. He started to worry that he wouldn’t make it, that Bear would find his body lying amongst the leaves. That wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. He wanted to be carried downstream to the lake, where no one would find him and no one would fuss. Drowning was supposed to be a peaceful death. He felt a pang of desire at the thought of peace. Finally, to be free of the pain. He pressed on. His cane slipped out of his hand. He stared at it for a mom
ent, unsure whether he would make it back up if he bent down to get it. He had tears in his eyes as he forced himself to move ahead. It was just another part of letting go.
He limped to the turn in the path, stopping at the bend to lean against a tree. The wheezing of his breaths must have masked the stranger’s arrival. He couldn’t hear the footsteps until the man appeared in his peripheral vision.
“I don’t need help,” Ray said.
“And I don’t want to give it,” the man replied, “but I have no choice. No one else is around to stop you.”
Ray gave him a long look. The man was in his early seventies, he guessed. He thought it strange that someone would choose such a fine overcoat for a hike in the woods. “You don’t know what I’m doing, sir.”
“I know you’re going off to die. I know you’re doing it because you think it’ll save your son the pain of dealing with you.”
“Oh, I see,” Ray said. He wiped the sweat from his brow. “You’re one of them.”
“I am.”
“Then I expect you can tell my passing is long overdue. I’ve said my goodbyes. Leave me be.”
“I can’t do that.”
Ray pursed his lips. “I don’t have enough breath left to argue with you.”
“Good. Then maybe you’ll listen.”
The man held out his hand with his palm pointed to Ray’s left. A few seconds later, something vibrated the air. A humming noise filled his ears. When he looked back, a hazy image rippled across the trail like an oil painting hanging above the earth. Ray recognized the red paint of his barn.
“Why are you showing me this?”
“This leads back to your farm. Go home. Die there, later, with your son at your side. He’s too attached to see you die this way. Its effects on him could be disastrous, for everyone.”
“Johnny’s taken care of me for too long. I won’t be a burden to him anymore.”
The man started to reply and then stopped. He looked like he was searching for the right words. “All I can tell you is that you have to turn back. If you love your son as much as you say you do, go back.”