The Awakened

by Julian Cheek

  “For millennia, order and peace reigned in our world and there was a time…” Ngaire choked back a sob. “Oh Sam, once, the trees were vibrant and proud. Tall and powerful, they stood. And the fields and the plants sang with energy. Now,” Ngaire hung her head down, “now darkness weaves through their spirit, through their essence like a deadly disease, and I fear that that which once was proud and alive is lost for ever.” Ngaire drew another large puff of her pipe, trying to regain some strength before continuing. “The Ethereals are supposed to be above petty squabbles and discord. It is their role to maintain and nurture this world. To them, this was and is their gift to themselves and a joy to share with us, their people. But discord and evil lay at their door, and slowly, inexorably its presence was felt both in the kingdom of the Ethereals and here in our home. The Nephilim were created by the Ethereals to act as servants for them and to carry out their orders here on our world. The leader of the Nephilim is Lord Elim.” She said his name as if it was poison! “Lord Elim revolted against the rulers of the Ethereals and a huge battle ensued. The very fabric of the heavens was rent and terror more than has ever been experienced reigned here whilst the battles continued. There appeared to be no let up in the battles, which lasted eons, as both friend and foe knew each other’s strengths and weaknesses intimately, and whilst the Ethereals were more powerful, the Nephilim had larger numbers. An end to the ‘Age of the Snake’ seemed a mere dream.

  “And then, in a master stroke that none could foresee, the Ethereals did something that, to this day and forever more, will stay in our heads and lives as a sign that the force for good will emerge victorious.”

  The embers of the fire had dimmed and the tea, long since cooled, lay untouched besides them. Ngaire got up and placed more logs on the fire and offered Sam another tea, but he was captivated with the story and quickly shook his head. Ngaire turned back after inspecting the flames beginning to lick around the new kindling and sat back down.

  “Where was I?” she asked of herself. “Oh yes, I was about to tell you where you come into the picture!” Sam, entranced though he was with the story, was awake enough to hear that suddenly he was now front and centre stage to this very strange but very captivating story and his hairs on his forearms began to lift. Ngaire continued. “The Ethereals knew that to battle with the Nephilim using just those elements around them that they had created, was not working, so they assembled the mighty Anahim together, the ultimate leaders amongst the Ethereals, to discuss a plan so extraordinary, so brazen, that were it to be ushered anywhere else, all hope of an end to the battles, and victory over the Nephilim would have been an impossibility. The Anahim saw that the only way to beat Lord Elim and his troops was to go outside of the ordinary!” She looked now directly at Sam. He should have seen it coming, but he was, to this point, blissfully unaware of the clues she had been dropping into the explanation.

  “We mortals know not how, but somehow, the Anahim knew of another place in another time and another dimension. They knew that only there could they find an answer to defeat Lord Elim. How else could they hope to end the battles unless something from another dimension could be used as a weapon, which neither the Nephilim nor the Ethereals could have any power or influence over. There was great debate and discussion about this. On the one hand they saw this as a possible end to the Nephilim, and on the other, saw a potential calamity should that weapon decide to turn itself on them. After much soul searching and wise thought they decided to send one out to find that which no man, nor being could be in this world.” She paused. “Sam. They sent one to come and get you!”

  Sam did not know where to look. He could not, would not accept the words he was hearing. It just could not be. This crazy woman was mistaken and lost in her myths and the amazing story he had been listening to with joy and amazement a few short moments before, now started to sound discordant and cruel. Sam felt his anger build. He knew it for what it was and even here in his dreams, he sensed when those around should rather go whilst they still had a chance. Ngaire, or whatever the hell she was, was about to fall into his line of fire, and he had both barrels loaded, waiting.

  But Ngaire was not finished and before Sam had an opportunity to scream, she dropped one small time bomb which blew his anger to smithereens as so much mist. “Sam,” she started, “the Anahim who went across space and time to seek that weapon, went knowing that all the powers they had in this world, and all the strength they imparted, would have to be lost when entering your world. That on starting down this journey, they could never return. They could never enjoy immortality. They were to be stripped of all just to find The One to rescue all. The fairest and bravest of the Anahim hesitated not one second but, taking up her cloak, she stepped forward and entered the chaos and was lost to us forever. Her name is sung and her sacrifice held in all folklore and myth. She was the one who left to find that which needed to be found. Her name, Sam, was Aronui and she will never come back to her world again! Instead, she now lives, we presume, in your world, and who knows what she experiences as a mortal where once she was a leader of all you behold, and more.”

  A small piece of an, as yet, incomplete jigsaw, fell from the skies and landed slap bang into the middle of Sam’s rapidly confusing world as he recognised something that his soul knew was true. “Alice!” He choked in incredulity. “Alice? The lady from the chippy who serves full English breakfasts to me when I go there! That Alice? You are saying that she is, was, a mighty leader here, like an angel, and had powers no mortal would ever have, and instead of all that, she chose to give it all up and come and find me?” Sam had to stand up! He paced rapidly up and down like a caged lion, unable to assimilate his emotions and thoughts. “You are having a BLOODY laugh, woman!” he shouted. This was sooo way off beam that his mind simply could not hold the import of what had just been stated. But Ngaire sat there. Still. Arms folded, her pipe still clenched between her aged lips, smoke still oozing out from the end. Waiting. Silent. Unbroken.

  “Sam,” she continued. “Search your heart and hear. You did come back to this world and you did have powers none here had ever witnessed and you battled the Nephilim who fled in terror from your anger and your wrath, and for a time, we started to believe that perhaps an end to the evil would happen in our lifetime.” Ngaire once more dropped her head and continued in a whisper. “But then one day you went to confront the Lord Elim, perchance to end the One who had caused all this misery, and you never came back; until this week, with no memory, no recollection of anything that transpired before, and no knowledge of the powers you had, and should still have. And now, as you have witnessed yourself, it appears all that Aronui, your Alice, set out to achieve, has been cruelly destroyed by the destroyer himself!”

  Ngaire hung her head at last and stared down into her dishevelled shawl, which lay ruffled on her lap, and she toyed with a loose thread or two as dejection hovered around her like the darkest of mists. “I know not what happened in your encounter, Sam,” she breathed, “but you went in with victory on your arm and faith as a shield and now you are a ghost, a shadow. I cannot bear it!”

  Ngaire’s shoulders started to shake as a deep well of sorrow bubbled over at last from within and tears of grief coursed down her weathered cheeks.

  From somewhere deep within Sam’s psyche he heard, Typical! Here I am in a dream world and even here I am useless! He did not like what he was hearing so he turned to Ngaire, moved over to her bent body and held her tight, trying to protect her from the demons who toyed with her frailty without remorse. He could feel anger build again, but this time in defence of someone rather than as a mechanism to protect himself.

  The candles flickered dimly in the late night gloom and small sounds of crackling from the last vestiges of the fire interrupted this moment. Sam was about to get up when they heard a knock at the door. Ngaire shook herself into the now as she heard the knocking and turned her face up to Sam’s, reaching her thin, bony hand out from within her shawl to touch his face. “That shou
ld be Ma-aka,” she said. Standing up heavily and walking to the door, she half turned, saying to Sam, “Be careful, Sam. He carries great conflict in him at this time.” Ngaire got to the darkened door and opened it.

  Sam couldn’t see the person beyond in the darkness of the night, but he was aware that firstly, it was very late, and who therefore would be out at this time of night? Secondly, he had a feeling that whoever was out there had come for him and that set his fears racing. He heard Ngaire speak to the form which stood just outside. “Be ready, Ma-aka. He is here as I had hoped and prayed. He is here and much confusion hangs over him, like this mist hangs over us.” She said this as she peered out into the shifting gloom. The mists that lay over their world, never seeming to move or alter. Then she stood to one side to allow the person to enter.

  There, in the dim lamp light of the porch, wet from head to toe, stood the same young man he had encountered right at the start of this strangest of dreams, the same man who had run up to him in greeting on that path. And was he not the same man who was there when I woke in the tent? Sam mused. And, now that I come to think of it, the same man who had also come at me with a club and tried to kill me a few short days later! Parts of his dream came back to him, flittering in and out of his consciousness.

  “You?!” Sam said in shock. That, for now was all he could manage. There were too many emotions cascading through his field of vision right now for him to be able to tackle yet another potential encounter. Sam recalled that this man, Ma-aka, had lost his mother the last time he saw him. He also remembered the girl.

  “Pania?” he mumbled. “Was she OK? Was everything alright with her? Where did those thoughts come from?” All rushed through his mind in a second. Both Sam and Ma-aka looked across the chasm of the room at each other; Sam with incomprehension and surprise, Ma-aka, with fear, loathing and anger all mixed in together.

  For once, Sam was able to study the man who stood in front of him. He stood slightly taller than Sam but appeared to be around the same age. Like many others in this world, his eyes also glinted a purple hue and it was as if this colour became more intense as emotions flared. For now, his eyes were of deepest purple and were almost iridescent. His tunic was soaked through and his hair hung down over his face in wet, long streaks. Almost as an after-thought, a large eagle perched on his shoulder and looked sideways down to the floor, perhaps looking for a mouse or other tasty rodent. Ma-aka seemed not to notice this proud bird of prey perching on his shoulders, but with a quiet “snick” aimed at the bird, it lifted off his shoulders and flew back off out into the darkness, its cawing echoing through the air as it slowly faded into stillness… Ma-aka stood facing Sam squarely and Sam noticed that he was very much more muscular than he had remembered. The tattoos, which appeared to be normal “adornment” here, were carved up his forearms and resembled sinuous dragons and other objects too confusing to decipher. Sam remembered that Ma-aka had proclaimed that he was a head of some clan before he had decided to try to kill him. His mind was at a loss with many jumbled emotions and he could sense that this man opposite him was similarly tackling a myriad of feelings within his stiff pose.

  Ngaire broke the stand-off. “Ma-aka,” she called softly. “We all need to re-learn that which we felt we knew intimately. We need to allow The One to be who he is and to listen, even though the hearing of it may pain us beyond despair. For this is our task. This is our duty. And, Ma-aka, this is our friend!” And with that, she turned to Sam and looked at him with deep feeling and love and moved to him, to embrace him where he stood.

  Sam was taken somewhat aback with this show of emotion, and clumsily lifted his arm to embrace Ngaire, all the while trying to see what Ma-aka would do. Ma-aka stayed silent and immovable, blocking the front door, his eyes looking first at Sam, then at Ngaire’s bent back, his face a blank canvas that Sam could not read.

  “We first met when we were both quite young.” Ma-aka mumbled down to the floor. “I was helping my father catch some fish for our tribe in the mighty Manganui-a-te-Ao. She it is who has fed our people for generations, and our clan, like many others, settled on its banks many generations ago. My father was head of the Watamka clan. Wise, strong and brave he was. His name was Ari, the Eagle, and he led our people with strength of character and wisdom.” Sam heard the regret in Ma-aka’s voice and wondered what had become of his father, Ari.

  “As the eldest son, it was my duty to take over as clan leader once my father died, but I did not expect his leaving to be so early in my life, nor so unexpected. Where we often fished, the water is funnelled through a series of large boulders and the fish fly upstream and launch themselves into the air there to escape the cascades. We were thigh deep in the cold waters, balancing on the wet rocks under the strong flow trying to catch the flying fish when suddenly a bright and dazzling light appeared hovering over the waters right before our eyes. The other men, believing a spirit was awakened by our fishing, ran in terror and disappeared into the forests, but my father and I held our ground. My father was not afraid and he looked at me and said just one thing. ‘My son, the Eagle, protects us and the waters feed us. Be not afraid for this is less than they.’ Then the dazzling light exploded and I lost all senses. My ears and my sight failed to function for a while and I fell back into the waters, tumbling end over end as the current threw me downstream. I feared then for my life, as I have never done since. The boulders could have taken my life and I would have been powerless to resist the current, but I was spared and it was not long before my feet touched the river bed and I managed to stand. Of my father, there was no sign and I scanned all around for him.”

  Ma-aka was lost in the telling and he did not stop the tears which pressed out from within him. “My father had disappeared, and finding him was paramount in my mind. I looked all around for him until my eyes alighted once more on the boulders where we had been fishing and there I saw the strangest sight. Where once there was no one, now lay one unconscious on the boulders in amongst the raging current. Dressed in the strangest apparel. That person was you, Sam. My amazement at seeing someone appear from out of thin air was only matched by my determination to hunt for my father. I needed to find him, yet I needed to save you at the same time.” Ma-aka looked up at Sam, “I chose you over my father, Sam. I came to save you and, to this day I do not know why I did this. I beat myself every day for failing my father, but he was gone, and you were found. What choice did I have?” Ma-aka continued. “They found my father later that day! His body was torn and his bones crushed. The torrent must have swept him over the falls to plunge into the rocks at the base and just like that, without a goodbye, he was gone, Sam. Ari, the Eagle, my father, was gone.”

  Ma-aka stopped then, his loss palpable in the air. Sam without knowing how or knowing anything of this person who stood before him, knew then why it was that this man who stood before him, had become his friend. Why, according to Ma-aka, they had become inseparable. Sam connected with Ma-aka in an instant as they stood separated by a few dirty wooden planks and the air of despair and loss. “David!” Sam gasped. “I lost my brother, like you lost your father, and nothing I did could bring him back, Ma-aka. I too blame myself for something, I realise, I had no power over and no control of its passing. He was here, then he was gone and I never had a chance to say goodbye either. I failed him, but I didn’t, Ma-aka. And neither did you fail Ari.”

  Ma-aka was silent. His head hung low for a moment as he digested what had just transpired, then he looked up slowly and gazed at Ngaire. “Perhaps there is a way back, Ngaire,” he said. “I do not pretend to understand what happened when Sam went to confront Lord Elim, but, as you say, here he stands and despite hurt and loss, I see that he is not to blame.” And with the first of a slow grin he continued, “So put him down, Ngaire. Put him down so I too can crush the life out of him!” Ma-aka, at last, entered fully into the shack, closed the door and crossed the gap between him and Sam. Ngaire stepped back respectfully and Ma-aka faced Sam, close enough to strike, close en
ough to embrace. Ma-aka stretched out his arm and placed it on Sam’s shoulder. “Sam? I am a simple man and I am not worthy to replace Ari, but the spirits chose otherwise and so I must obey. They also sent you. Sent you to change the events that are unfolding around us. That too I do not understand but…” And now looking up at Ngaire, he continued, “One here at least, believed enough to defend you, and who was I to second guess our great healer, Ngaire? She who is mother to me where Turi no longer stands.” Sam sensed a sadness flicker across Ma-aka’s face as he gazed directly at Sam and he tensed, expecting Ma-aka to take his anger out on him, but instead, Ma-aka, with some humour, said. “As a human, you should not be here. You appeared out of the light and battled the powers who sought to unbalance that which was perfect. The fact that both Ari and Turi are now lost to me has nothing to do with your arrival, and departure, and arrival again.” Ma-aka had a twinkle in his eyes as he said this and the purple glow had eased. “You came from the light and who am I to continue to promote you as ‘Sam of the Shades’? No! Instead you are who you always have been. You are ‘The One’. Chosen by those who we worship for reasons beyond me. But, if you will permit, I would like to stand again by your side one more time, Sam, and face our enemy together, as we did in the past, and, I hope, can do again in the future.”

  Sam looked over at this man who stood in front of him. His eyes on Sam and his hand on Sam’s shoulder, and for once, Sam saw honesty, and more importantly saw a kindred spirit. He did not know what was going on but for now that didn’t matter. For now he felt welcome and loved. By two weird looking strangers, who, for some reason believed he was worth a damn, and that was fine by Sam. He reached up and put his arm on Ma-aka’s shoulder, mirroring Ma-aka. “Ma-aka, I will try to find that which I lost and try to be worthy once more of your and Silver Fern’s trust. Who knows, maybe we can stand side to side again and kick this Lord Elim’s arse into the depths of darkness once and for all, and if we do, then I know you and Silver Fern will have my back and protect me with your lives, as I would for you!”