“His curiosity urged him on, even though the celestial feeling in the room made him nervous. He would leave once he had a quick look. The object in the pool was like a piece of the stars and he stared at it, wide-eyed, in amazement. It seemed so close, something just within his reach. So he stretched his hand in to touch it. He was almost there, he thought, so he stretched a little more, but lost his balance and fell into the pool.
“He panicked as fear grabbed him. Flapping his hands, he opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came. He was choked by the water that rushed in, muting his attempt to scream for help.
“He was beginning to lose consciousness as he slipped deeper into the pool. His face was almost even with the glowing orb in the center of the pool when a hand grabbed the back of his shirt and began pulling him back to the surface. Dark clouds gathered around him, and for a few seconds, the only thing he could see was the dream-like brilliance coming from the orb. There was something inside it, he noticed, in the form of a scroll.
“As the light drew away from him, he blacked out. The figure pulling Sullivan up had not noticed how close he was to the orb until Sullivan’s feet brushed it, sending a shock through every part of his being and drawing him out of unconsciousness.
“Sullivan found himself lying on his stomach at the edge of the pool. He took several painful breaths, coughing in between as the water that had ceased his breath emptied. Still fatigued, he turned to see the person that saved him and found his father standing there, soaked through in his blue robe.
“Graham had no anger in his expression or tone, or so it appeared from the outside. He did not act surprised to have found his son far from home, nor did he ask how he got inside the building. He only said, ‘You will need to stay here tonight, and Root will get you something dry to wear.’
“A man and woman dressed in white stood at the entrance watching as Graham led Sullivan to the door.
“Sullivan recognized one of them as the person he snuck past. Graham handed Sullivan to Root and stood there for a minute watching as he was escorted to a different room. Sullivan turned once to see his father standing there, watching as he was led away.
“When his son was out of sight, Graham went the opposite way. He entered one of the many rooms inside the temple and locked the door behind him; alone, he let go of his emotions as tears rolled down his cheek.
“Why, why was this happening to him? Graham thought reflectively. He was both angry and sad. If he’d only been there sooner, or had been faster, maybe he would have been able to save him, he thought as he slumped on the only chair in the room in his wet robe.
“When Sullivan was being pulled up, his feet touched the orb, which caused the ring on his father’s finger to light up, as well as every Patron around the four Kingdoms. A gathering was planned two weeks from that day, and he knew what was going to happen. His son would be placed in what was known as the marble seal, where he would spend the rest of his life as he began to lose his mind, which was an effect of the scroll, or key of creation.
“The madness is caused by the powerful pull from the other keys of creation guarded by the other Patrons.
“Graham knew that eventually, Sullivan’s only obsession would be to obtain the other keys, which would give him untold powers enough to destroy the earth itself, and this was the reason for the creation of the marble seal. Designed to hold anyone consumed by the scroll and in order for the person to be placed in the marble seal, all eight Patrons had to be present. Graham’s main concern, outside of his own, was that of his wife. How was he going to break the news?
“Rita was still getting ready when an excited maid burst through the bedroom door. ‘Young Sullivan is coming, and with Master Graham.’
“Rita stopped what she was doing and ran out of the room. Graham and Sullivan were some distance away when they saw Rita running toward them. She rushed to Sullivan, picked him up, and kissed him, relieved that he was all right.
“She scolded him as she placed him down. Looking defeated from his mother’s rebuke, Graham sent him away and Sullivan ran inside, leaving his mother and father alone. Graham asked Rita to come with him as he turned and started walking away from the house with Rita following. She could see her husband was troubled, as he was quiet and withdrawn.
“She asked where he found Sullivan, breaking the silence a few minutes into their walk. Graham told her, he had followed him all the way to Mevi-tra, but must have gotten lost inside.
“Rita was surprised to hear this. ‘This boy someday is going to drive me crazy. Just like you, he’s strong-willed, with an insatiable sense of curiosity.’ She was trying to lighten Graham’s mood, but his flat expression did not change at her attempted tease. Whatever happened must have been bad to set her husband in such a mood. She grabbed his hand to stop him.
“Graham stopped walking and said simply, shaking his head in regret, ‘He fell in...he fell in, and the Council will be gathering in two weeks.’ She knew exactly what Graham meant. The shock of his words tore through her. She turned and was about to run away when Graham grabbed her hand and she stopped. Her eyes welled up, and she began to cry as Graham pulled her into an embrace.
“Rita spent that night thinking about what she was going to do. This wasn’t going to be her son’s fate, she thought as she shifted in bed. Unable to sleep, she quietly rose from bed and tried to tiptoe out of their room, but Graham heard it. He questioned his wife, who tried to act natural, and he went back to sleep.
"What to do? She continued to contemplate as she walked over to Sullivan’s room. Rita peeked in and found him curled at the head of his bed, shaking. She hurried over to Sullivan, who was unaware of her presence until she laid her hand on his head.
“‘What are you doing here?’ he asked, surprised to see his mother in his room.
‘“You were sitting curled up at the head of your bed, shaking. Are you okay?’
“‘Yes, I’m fine,’ Sullivan replied as he pulled up his covers.
“‘Are you sure?’
“‘Yes, really, I’m fine,’ Sullivan replied.
“Convinced, Rita kissed his forehead and as she left the room made her decision.
“The next day, Rita began privately making preparations when Graham was away. When everything was ready, she sent Sullivan away. She knew her husband was bound by his duty as Patron to bring Sullivan in and that she could face disciplinary action for what she was doing, but regardless of the consequence and magnitude of her action, she did it anyway, sending him into hiding with one of her maidservants named Obrie.
“Where they were heading, no one knew, but they were gone for four days and had traveled far into the southern borderland before they were found by the Ackalans that were sent to bring him back. As they escorted the wagon back two days after they were found, something strange happened. The sun was setting that day as Obrie and Sullivan sat inside the wagon when suddenly Sullivan’s eyes turned red, then gold, his face slowly becoming translucent. His form also changed, fading into itself like a reflective pool. Obrie screamed, recoiling away as his form drifted toward her. Everyone stopped, and the Ackalans closest to the carriage rushed over, pulling the door open to see a Sullivan wrapped in a rainbow of color suddenly disappear in front of them, leaving Obrie frozen in her seat. That was the last time Sullivan was seen−until now.”
A crackly sound came from a snapping twig breaking inside the fire when Iseac stopped speaking. The fire was almost completely died down, with just an orange glow remaining at the base.
Iseac could see the questions in Samuel’s eyes as he spoke.
“We have a long day tomorrow; get some rest. There will be time for questions later,” Iseac said, as if reading Samuel’s thoughts. Sleep was now the last thing on Samuel’s mind, with hundreds of additional questions running through it. But as time passed, the soothing touch of sleep came, and he was swept away for the night.
Chapter 17
A Welcomed Surprise
“We have to go,
” Mosley said, waking Samuel from his sleep. It was still dark out, grayish black from the dew that hovered overhead. For a minute, Samuel wondered why he was woken up in the middle of the night; he could have slept for another hour or two.
“The sun will be rising in another hour, and I would like us to be at the river’s edge by noon,” Iseac said. Samuel yawned, stretching his arms up to the heavens; he was still tired.
“You can rest on Durack,” Iseac said as Samuel was clearing his eyes, “but we have to leave now.”
The horses were already saddled and ready to go.
Even as he woke himself up, Samuel thought there was something, not odd, but different about Iseac that he couldn’t put his finger on. It started with his companion Mosley, who had a silver ring around his eyes that was even more pronounced at night when he stepped into the firelight.
Two days before, Mosley had run for hours, his endurance unlike anyone he’d ever seen. Iseac himself never appeared tired, even though he was awake before and after Samuel went to sleep; and again, he was already packed and ready to leave. These and other things about Iseac got him thinking−Iseac was more than what he was portraying.
“I would like to walk this time,” Samuel said, hoping to use the opportunity to find out more about them as Iseac gave him a quizzical look.
“I would prefer not toppling off while I’m still trying to wake up, if you don’t mind,” Samuel said flatly, bringing a smile to everyone’s face.
“Very well,” Iseac said as he tugged on Durack’s reins.
They were traveling the back lands of Chartum-Valley that few dared use because of the many sinkholes.
“Have you been to these parts before?” Samuel asked, seeing Iseac’s confidence in navigating the land.
“You…could say that,” Iseac replied.
“So what are Anamerians?” Samuel asked. “You mentioned them yesterday.”
“They are normal beings like you and I, but they are seekers that help bring balance to all things, either in the present or the future.”
“Is this the person that can help me find my family?” Samuel asked.
“No, he’s not. The person we’ll be seeing is called Gabram. He is a Patron from Bremah, which is where we are going.”
“I have never been to Bremah before, but I’ve been to Orie and Bayshia.”
“Did your family go to the last harvest festival?” Iseac asked.
“Yes! That is one thing we look forward to doin
of themselves against their surroundings. When the connection is made after a person’s mind is unlocked, things that appear extraordinary become ordinary.”
Samuel, a few days ago, wouldn’t have considered asking such question of an Ackalans, considering it as foolish or even childish. However, after seeing his family disappear in a flame of fire, nothing was outside of the realm of possibility. He wasn’t going to presume anything on things he’d once questioned, and it was in this same manner that Mosley responded to this question.
“And no…we can’t disappear,” Mosley said, “but I can see how someone might believe that. People don’t always see what is in front of them because of their preconception. They only see what their eyes tell them should be there.”
“Is that what you mean by unlocking the mind?” Samuel asked.
“No, it is more than that. It’s something that can’t be explained in any way that would make sense to you.”
“Why can’t it be explained?” Samuel thought, but before he could ask, Iseac cut in on their conversation.
“Hold it,” he said, and they turned to look at him.
“We have—” and before he could finish his sentence, an arrow came flying. He didn’t have enough time to react, and the force from the arrow pushed him even farther to his right as he tried to move away from it.
It pierced his shoulder just as Mosley rushed in front of him.
Everything happened in a flash. By the time Samuel could react, Mosley had deflected several arrows aimed at them. His hands moved with such speed and grace that Samuel could only stare in awe.
Samuel went pale, then, when he heard the familiar grunting sound that haunted his dreams. It sent a chill down his spine just before they emerged from woods.
The creatures he now knew as Agoras. Behind them, three people on horseback appeared, with their arrows aimed at them.
Gritting his teeth, Iseac pulled the arrow out of his shoulder in a single motion. He turned to Samuel as the spot where the arrow once was began to soak in blood.
“We’ll hold them off, but I need you to promise me that you’ll go to Bremah and not do anything else.”
Samuel nodded his head in response.
“If you want to find your family, he is the only one who can help you. Durack will get you there, and we’ll catch up with you later.”
Samuel had a flashback, then; remembering that those were the same words his father uttered, and he never came back for them.
“Now go!” Iseac said, cutting in on Samuel’s thought. Iseac turned, brushing his hand along Durack’s neck.
Samuel knew arguing with Iseac would only get them both killed, and this was not the time, so he reluctantly mounted Durack. Iseac whispered something in his horse’s ear. Iseac turned to look at him.
“Hold on,” he said just before tapping Durack on its side.
Whatever he said sent the horse galloping with incredible speed, and Samuel had to hold on tight. His surroundings became a blur within minutes as the air rushed past him. The wind muted every other sound except the rhythmic sound of Durack’s smooth gallop. Samuel did not turn his head for fear of what he might see; instead, he leaned forward to protect himself from tree branches as the horse raced through the woods.
Iseac caught a glimpse of Samuel at the of the corner of his eye as he disappeared into the woods with the Agoras encircle them. They were not attacking, but snarled at them as they waved their weapons. Iseac suspected the reason the first arrow didn’t kill him was because they wanted him alive. Golans rarely miss.
This was confirmed by the apparent standoff by the Agoras; someone had given the order not to attack. Iseac could see, behind their hunger for blood, the anger and frustration of not being able to act on it.
“Drop your weapons,” a voice that sounded like splintering wood said from outside the circle. Iseac was focused on the Agoras, but his eyes drifted up briefly above their heads to see a rider approach. The rider’s face was hidden inside the cowl of his cloak and next to him were three other horsemen, their arrows aimed at them.
The arrows were held in place by the unwavering hands of Golans, with their battle colors of red and green splitting their face.
The hooded man dismounted and walked toward Iseac and Mosley. The Agoras parted as he entered the circle.
“Now,” he said, gesturing for them to drop their weapons as he stood in front of them.
“What do you want with us?” Iseac asked as the man pulled his hood off.
The person who stood in front of them was like a corpse that was forced to remain in his body. He was almost as pale as the Agoras, but he had thinning silver hair that was shoulder length, and his eyes were venomous red. He did not respond to Iseac’s question, but said instead “Ah…It’s been a long time since I’ve seen your kind.” He turned his head slightly to look at Mosley, then returned his gaze to Iseac. “If I give the order, you will be dead, and even the Ackalan can’t stop so many of them.”
Iseac knew he was right; while he was able to block the pain, he was losing the feeling in his arm. He looked at Mosley, moving his head slightly as he dropped his quarterstaff. Mosley did the same, releasing his weapon and letting it drop to the ground. As he did, the Agoras rushed them to the ground and they were both restrained.
“Tie him with that,” the man leading the group said, pointing to Mosley. “They are a lot more dangerous than they appear. Take care of the rider,” he said, looking at the Golans, and they rode off after Samuel.
/> Iseac and Mosley were pulled to their feet and pushed forward as the man lifted his hood over his head again and began walking away.
He stopped after a few steps, turned his head to the side, and said casually, as if talking to himself, “They said to bring you alive, but no one mentioned anything about your companion.
“Take care of him,” the man said to the Agora next to him, and he started walking again to his horse. The Agora that was giving the command ran toward the group that was holding Mosley, and he was pulled away. At the same time, Iseac was hit hard in the back. It sent flashes of pain across him, joining the one in his shoulder. He clenched his teeth as he stumbled forward from the force.
“Move it…” the Agora that struck Iseac said, the words foreign to his tongue. They spoke in a strange tongue that Mosley did not recognize or understood as he was led away. While Iseac’s hands were tied behind him, Mosley had a wooden log placed over his shoulders so his hands were tied apart.
While most of the Agoras’ dominating thoughts had to do with killing humans, their leader was determined not to take any chances with Mosley.
He was about forty yards from Iseac when the leading Agora kicked him in the back of his leg, bringing Mosley to his knees. He had been studying the small group that was leading him to his execution, and knew this was it as he watched them form a semi-circle around him.
The leading Agora walked to Mosley, his scarred face visible inside his helmet as he stared at him with his deadly blue eyes that held an unknown hatred for humans.
Sunlight glittered off the Agora’s jagged blade as he raised his hand to the air. Mosley moved, taking advantage of the split−second opening. He swung the left end of the log that held his hands apart as he rose from his knee. It caught the Agora under his chin, snapping its neck as the force pushed it back. Caught by surprise, it took a second for the other Agoras to react as they rushed forward, determined to end his life.
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