by Troy Hooker
“The more we dawdle the more we miss!” she had told them cheerfully.
The City Center had four entrances aside from the main entrance, each containing large ornate domed halls on four equally-spaced sides around the circular center of the building, with each hall displaying their respective colors in fine etched glass windows, and each bearing a different creature carved into the stone along the hall.
Gus, doing his best to keep up, attempted to tell them of the history of the building—its purpose of bringing all of Lior together.
“It’s meant,” he puffed, “to withstand any force in Lior—or Earth!” he told them.
It took them a while to circle to the Center, and as they passed the green hall’s square of the forest people in Themane, they watched vendors selling lighted green hats to show support of their hall, as well as many natural goods like leather and wood products, small bow and arrow sets, and beads and knitted items.
When they reached the red hall of Thalo, it too, was packed with vendors and shops selling their hall’s lighted red hats, as well as fresh grilled seafood and potatoes, mugs of birch beer, fresh roasted coffees, and hundreds of glowing suckers of every flavor.
With a hint of salt water already drifting about, the red hall square was almost as though they had stepped into a small coastal village, much like Boothbay Harbor in Maine where his foster family vacationed every other year, except here there wasn’t a half-sloshed big-haired woman arguing over a designer purse in one of the quaint shops. But it wasn’t too hard to imagine his foster mother stumbling out of one of the entrances, her peacock colored dress and makeup glistening in the late harbor sun.
The street gradually inclined as they passed the shops and vendors, and at the end of the street, lighted cobblestone paths disappeared in various directions. Mr. Sterling veered right, just past the small wooden fruit stand in front of the yellow brick Middle Eastern-style Makolet’s Foods, to one of the pathways that snaked through the trees until they were enveloped in the thick pines.
Moments later, with the sounds of the City faded to a muffle behind them, the woods finally opened up to a perfect view of the ocean, and before them, eight large cabins stood perched high above the water in a half-moon shape. The centerpiece of the cabin lot was a white stone pavilion, open to the breeze, a glowing fire already burning happily in its hearth.
A calm breeze of salt and mist touched Sam’s face as he followed the group toward the outermost cabin, reminding him suddenly of his one and only trip to Florida. He had loved the ocean instantly, spending most evenings on the beach to get away from his parents, his feet buried in the cool sand while the waves crashed on the shoreline. The smell and sound—the feel of the ocean—it calmed him.
As they walked toward the cabins, a large flash of light filled the sky behind the weary group, illuminating the trees where the pathway to the City led. The flash formed into an image of a winged creature, whose light burned steadily in the darkness above. From the City they heard the hushed sound of cheering in unison at the sight in the sky, and for a few moments Sam and the others watched it as it branded the muted blackness behind it.
***********************
The cabin was large but cozy, more ornately-decorated than the cabin near the gate, but still offering the feeling of being home—though White Pine was a very long way away. Immediately a fire was started and was soon beginning to creep up the fragrant logs.
Mrs. Sterling immediately set to work divvying up responsibilities so as not to miss any more of the celebrations in town.
“Sam, your room is upstairs with Gus. Gus, I know you will want to stay with us, since your family is on watch back in White Pine. Emma, can you make up Lillia’s bed for her?” She shooed the girls upstairs and handed Sam some bed sheets and a soft down comforter. “There you are. Fresh linens that’ll keep you warm. I would make the bed for you, but some things a young man can do himself, am I right?” she smiled.
“Yes. Thank you Mrs. Sterling,” he said.
Though they were weary from travel, the excitement of the opening ceremony of the festival made them hurry to freshen up and change clothes, and each followed Mrs. Sterling’s orders with urgency.
Following Gus up the stairs, Sam was happy to see a large room and a fireplace of their own, and making his bed was quick and painless in the cedar log bed. They had their own bathroom and shower as well, lighted by a single blue lantern, the same as in the bedroom. They changed as quickly as they could, but already people had begun gathering in the living room below, ready for the hike back into town.
“Let’s go people!” Miss Karpatch barked as she burst through the door, wearing a large blinking red hat on her head and a red robe with silver cuffs and hems. “We have to get to the Center before the parade!”
As more of the group massed in front of the fireplace, Sam began to realize he was the only one not wearing a robe.
“Sam, did mom give you a robe?” Emma huffed as she emerged from one of the rooms downstairs, fiddling with a beret on her hair.
“Um—”
“Oh dear, I forgot!” Mrs. Sterling came flowing into the living room in her own robe. “Oh dear, I am so sorry Sam! We will have to get you one in town!”
“I didn’t know we needed—” he started.
Mr. Sterling came whistling into the room and winked at Sam. “Darling, don’t smother the boy. He will be fine until tomorrow.”
Lillia snickered from the back of the room where she had already pulled a book from the wall-length bookshelf. Her hair and makeup matched the mood she was in.
“But he will be out of place!” Mrs. Sterling looked stricken.
“It’s okay, Mrs. Sterling, really.”
“Nonsense! I know a perfect place we can stop off before the parade.” She grabbed Sam by the arm. “We can still make it if we hurry!”
Mr. Sterling shrugged as Mrs. Sterling pulled Sam out the door and down the cobble path, through the trees and into the street in front of the red hall’s entrance. There, a small shop with a brick face and aging overhang had hardly any of the pomp and decorations of the other stores. The bell above the door jingled as Mrs. Sterling hurried into the shop, and immediately a hunched, tiny old man emerged from the doorway behind the counter.
“Ah! Camisera Sterling! My beautiful girl! You are a sight for sore eyes!” the old man said.
“Uncle. How are you doing? Are you sleeping well?” Mrs. Sterling let go of Sam’s arm to hug the tiny man.
“Eh, you know, here and there. But you didn’t come back to Lior to ask about my sleeping habits, now did you? What can I do for you Camisera? Oh! I see here you have brought me a stowaway!” The old man looked Sam up and down from his spectacles crouched low on his nose.
“Samuel, meet my dear uncle Osan. He’s the finest robe tailor in all of Lior,” she said hurriedly as she scanned the racks of robes in the cluttered store.
“This young man must need a robe for the festivities,” said the old man as he continued to look Sam over like a prized ham.
“Yes, Uncle, and we’re in quite a hurry,” Mrs. Sterling cut him off but smiled gently at him, proceeding then to bury herself in a rack of robes.
“She won’t find you a robe over there,” Osan winked at Sam. “I moved the men’s robes to the front of the store.”
Then he motioned for Sam to follow him toward a small rack of dark red robes, almost identical to every other robe in the store, and fumbled in the material for a moment.
“Ah, this will do,” he said as he produced a robe and prodded Sam to try it on. Sam obeyed and slipped the soft material on his shoulders. It fit perfectly.
“Still got the touch, Uncle,” Mrs. Sterling said after abandoning her search in the women’s robes. “How does it fit, Samuel? Any pull in the arms?”
“Very well I think,” Sam said, admiring the smooth touch of the sl
eeves. It was hard to think that the robes were any different than each other, but at closer glance, he began to notice tiny variations in the material—some thicker than others, some shiny like silk while others were like burlap, and all had either red or silver sleeves.
“Young man, there is no think. Either it fits or it does not,” Osan peered at him once again.
“It fits very well. I like it,” Sam responded.
“Good. It’s yours,” Osan said with a wave of his bony hand.
“Thank you Sir,” Sam said quickly, admiring the robe in the mirror at the front of the shop.
“Uncle, you can’t keep business going if you keep giving your merchandise away,” Mrs. Sterling said.
“Do not argue, Camisera. It is my store, I will do as I please with my robes,” he said defiantly, pushing his glasses high on his nose.
Then he studied Sam for a moment.
“You’re not from Lior, are you?” he questioned quietly, and then frowned at Mrs. Sterling. “I see why you are in a hurry.”
“Yes, Uncle, but we believe he is one of us,” she said in a hushed tone.
“Well.” Osan put his hand out and snatched Sam up by the shoulders. “Then you best call me Uncle,” he said, slapping Sam squarely on the back.
“Yes—Sir, and thank you for the robe,” Sam choked out.
Seeing that she had lost the argument about paying for the robe, Mrs. Sterling kissed her uncle on the cheek before marching Sam out into the crowded street where Emma and Gus had already bought blinking red hats and were sipping iced berry tea through glowing red straws.
Following Mr. Sterling, the group maneuvered through the crowd toward the City Center where masses of families were already gathering on both sides of Main Street in front of the main entrance. They found a place next to a vendor who was stirring a large wooden handle into a huge cast iron pot of colorful popcorn, the smell reaching Sam’s nose almost immediately, reminding him how hungry he was.
But before he could get rid of the hollow feeling in his stomach, Emma shoved a bag of multi-colored popcorn and a frozen mug of tea in his hands.
“It’s just to hold us over until the banquet!” Emma said loudly over the crowd that was quickly gathering in around them.
Sam didn’t have time to answer her because suddenly there was a loud “BOOM” from the direction of the building’s front entrance, and all lights in the City blinked off, which immediately quieted the crowd and left the street in utter darkness.
The blackout was only temporary, because the massive doors with a raised carving of a great winged creature opened, and a blinding white light flooded Main Street.
Out of the entrance stepped an iridescent blue dragon, glittering with a silver and white breastplate and brilliant lights of all four halls’ colors attached to its wings. Around its neck was a stunning silver collar with blue lights that beamed like glowing spires into the night sky, and a chain that led to a man in a shining blue robe, walking confidently with the huge creature that towered over him.
There were gasps and hushed awes as the beautiful animal obediently walked beside its Master Keeper, who carefully guided the dragon down Main Street.
At first the crowd continued in silence, struck at the magnificence of the great lizard, its legs and arms showing years of power and strength. But then, as their sense of immediate fear seemed to subside, a lone cheer quickly morphed into a full-fledged roar, into which Sam, Gus, and Emma joined.
The Keeper walked the animal to the beginning of Main Street before halting and turning to the audience, who hushed to almost complete silence once again.
“TODAY MARKS YEAR FOUR THOUSAND FOUR HUNDRED FOURTEEN OF THE LIOR LIGHT FESTIVAL!” he said so loudly that Sam had to cover his ears, as did many of the others around him.
Suddenly, at a gentle tug of the chain, the great dragon lifted his head and spewed a stream of fire into the night sky, the searing heat blanketing the crowd in a few moments of warmth.
Again the crowd roared with approval, watching the Keeper and his trained fire-breather thunder down the street, calling the opening of the festival and belching fire.
Then a small group of people emerged huddled tightly in a circle, their faces hidden from the crowd, the hems of their robes glowing bright red against the dimly lit street. They moved together fluidly, as if one person, their red-tipped robes creating a kaleidoscopic effect.
Suddenly out of the circle shot an acrobat high into the air, latching onto an unknown force and twirling around it before another joined him, mimicking his movements. The glowing red robes disbanded into patterned movements of dance, each using their partner to propel them high into the air, creating a mystifying effect with red light.
“That’s our hall! The red flyers! Aren’t they great?” Emma said loudly to Sam.
“Yeah, they are!” Sam hollered back, not taking his eyes off the scene.
It was an awesome sight as each hall presented their own glowing team of acrobats, stilt walkers, and elaborate costumes of various creatures thought to be extinct or fictional back in the world Sam knew.
The word “great” couldn’t even begin to describe what he was seeing in front of him. The lights, colors, and flying acrobatics were otherworldly. Only a dream of something really great could have compared to this.
The world he knew. He still fought with the reality of it all—there just couldn’t be another world like Lior. No dragons have ever existed, and dinosaurs were extinct. No person has ever been able to travel by light beams before, and no one has ever conjured light into a form of any kind that he knew. His recent experiences in Lior defied all that was sensible. Any reasonable person would keep trying to pinch himself back into reality.
Sam wondered if maybe it was a really vivid dream. Or maybe he was in a coma. Did he get in a car wreck, and was he hanging on the edge of death and life? Or could he have fallen off the cliff and didn’t know it? Or maybe Bush had punched him one too many times.
***********************
“I need some air,” Sam said in Emma’s ear as they watched a nearly life-size paper version of the dragon, complete with fire-breathing nostrils, wind down the street.
“Come with me,” she pulled him out of the crowd and led him around the City Center to the red hall in the rear, where a guard with a silver beard immediately stopped them before they could slip through a side door. He was dressed in a red robe with silver collars and sleeves, and wore a metal pin of a tree with many branches. In front of him he held a very large sword with red engravings on the handle.
“There’s no one allowed in the hall until after the ceremony …” he stopped when he recognized Emma.
“Munchkin! When did you get back in town?” the tall guard said as he reached out with an especially large hand and gave her a rub on the top of the head.
“Hi Achiam!” she beamed at him, at which point he nabbed her for a big bear hug.
“Not quite as young as you used to be, are you?” he said, reaching down to fix her tangled hair. “I suppose we all get older. And who might this be?”
“This is Sam. He’s my …” she stopped.
“Friend,” Sam answered quickly as Emma turned an especially dark shade of pink.
“Oh, I see,” Achiam smiled largely. “I suppose you would like to show Sam here the balcony?”
“Yes—if it won’t cause any trouble.” Emma attempted to regain her composure.
“Of course not, especially for a munchkin and her—friend,” he said, smiling even more.
The guard lifted his sword and shoved the blade deep in a small opening in the door frame, then turned it slightly till a large click unlocked the large metal door of the hall. Achiam followed them into the small, dimly lit but ornately decorated room.
“Don’t forget the feast, you two,” he said and turned around once again to face the doorway,
removing his sword from the opening and placing it in front of him.
“Thank you!” Emma called behind her as she led Sam to the stairwell. “He’s my father’s friend. My father actually was the one to recommend Achiam to guard the hall.”
“He’s big, that’s for sure.”
Emma laughed.
“I’ve seen him take out three people at once in a Protector competition.”
She led him up the fourth flight of stairs and down a long, marble hallway, decorated with red vases and lavish drapes, until they arrived at a set of large glass doors opening up to a stone balcony that overlooked the entrance to Main Street. The crowd was cheering loudly as the purple acrobats emerged from the winged doors. At the end of the street stood the large arch that rose above the great iron gate into Lior, where they had seen the winged creatures etched on the columns.
Emma must have seen the scowl on his face because she snuggled up to his shoulder on the railing of the balcony. She was good at that—getting to the point of what was wrong so she could coax it out into the open.
“How are you doing with all this?”
The truth was that he wasn’t okay with all of it. Up until now, he was content with thinking there was no concept of good and evil in life—you are born, some get lucky with good circumstances, and some get handed the short end of the stick. He believed he was somewhere in between.
“I’m just having trouble believing in all this, that’s all.”
She didn’t seem surprised at his words. “You mean you are having trouble believing that we are half-angel and half-human,” she said carefully, looking deep into his eyes. “We call the angels the Watchers, since they have always been the protectors of people.”
Watchers. The first beings ever created, servants of God himself.