The Prince Warriors and the Swords of Rhema

by Priscilla Shirer

  Mary just stared, her eyes wide, her mouth working but no sound coming out.

  “Tell him, Miss Stanton. Tell him to let you go. He can’t hold you. He has no power in this place. He just wants you to think he has power so you will do whatever he says. But he doesn’t. He is nothing!”

  “What did you call me?” said Viktor, sitting up straight.

  “You call yourself Viktor. Because you think you will have victory. You are such a fool. You. Are. NOTHING!”

  Viktor let out a violent shriek and lunged at her. Brianna threw her shield up against him, forcing him back.

  “Tell him, Mary!” she ordered.

  Mary’s mouth trembled as several sounds began to spill out: “Let . . . me . . . go . . .”

  “Let. Her. Go!” Brianna echoed, taking a step forward. “And give us back our books. NOW!”

  Viktor lashed at Brianna, but she deflected him with her shield and then, seeing a moment’s advantage, lunged her sword into his body.

  Viktor bellowed in pain. He stumbled back, his eyes rolling, turning yellow. But he didn’t fall. He grimaced as streaks of gray vines spread over his face and down his neck and arms.

  The kids stepped backward, shocked, as Viktor began to morph into something huge and terrible. Waves of molten metal rippled over his human skin, smooth and seamless; he grew taller as more of his body became encased in metal, his arms and legs bulging with thick folds of muscle. A golden helmet grew over his head, the color matching the yellow of his eyes. His mouth opened, revealing two rows of long, sharp teeth.

  “You think you can kill me?” the monster hissed, the voice like hot metal plunging into cold water. “Don’t you know who I am?”

  Brianna stared at the giant before her, hearing the grating, savage voice, and she knew. She knew . . .

  “Ponéros,” Brianna whispered. She glanced at Levi, who saw it also.

  Viktor was Ponéros.

  “You—” she stammered, edging backward.

  The monster continued to expand until its head reached to the ceiling high overhead, twenty feet in the air. Its massive metal arms encompassed the entire room. Its shadow fell over the Prince Warriors, a shadow darker than any night they had known.

  The Prince Warriors edged backward, their swords still raised although they were clearly overcome by the size of this monster, this enemy. Levi glanced at his own sword—suddenly it looked much too small. All their swords together could never overcome this darkness that loomed over them.

  Then Levi felt a strange warmth at the back of his neck, like someone was resting a comforting hand upon him. His eyes blurred, invaded by a new light, a light no one in the room could see but him. Then, somehow, he understood.

  And he did the unthinkable.

  He lowered his sword.

  Then, he reached toward Brianna and lay his hand on her sword arm, pressing it down.

  “What are you . . . ?” she began.

  “Lay it down,” he said. Then louder, so they all could hear. “Lay it down.”

  “We can’t surrender,” Brianna whispered in his ear.

  Levi didn’t answer. He continued to stare straight at Ponéros, his gaze unwavering. The others saw the complete assurance on his face, and slowly they began to understand. One by one, the Prince Warriors lowered their swords and their shields, standing quietly before the gigantic beast. Ponéros’s yellow eyes widened at the sight, letting out a bray of hideous laughter.

  “So! You see now! I. Killed. Rook.” The voice, full of boastful triumph, blistered their ears. “And. I. Will. Kill. All. Of. You.”

  The warriors stood frozen, their swords at their sides, dwarfed by the abominable voice and the fearsome shadow that overwhelmed their hearts. The hairs on the napes of their necks stood at attention, electrified by adrenaline. And for a split second, the eeriest of silences swept through the room.

  “You. Will. Not.”

  The hush had been broken by a different voice that filled the room with a presence so great and majestic it made even Ponéros shrink back in terror.

  Ruwach.

  He was no longer small. He was enormous, brighter than the sun. He threw back his hood, and for the first time ever, the kids saw his face. A face of such exquisite beauty it was almost too much to take in. A face that seemed beyond all the goodness and rightness that could possibly exist in the universe.

  And in this moment Levi knew—they all knew and understood—that what they had always needed to defeat Ponéros had been with them all along. The Source had given them everything. From the beginning.

  In Ruwach.

  The armor, the Sparks, The Book, none of it meant anything without him. He was everything. Indeed, they’d be triumphant in every battle—past, present, or future—because Ruwach was there to fight for them.

  Ruwach raised one finger and pointed it at Ponéros. A beam of pure white fire radiated from his hand into the giant monster’s iron chest. Ponéros was propelled backward. He roared as smoke billowed from his chest, the sound making the whole building tremble. The Prince Warriors were thrown to the floor as the force of Ponéros’s demise swept over them. Mary shrieked and toppled off the trunk, which began to glow and rise, hovering in the air. Ponéros made a desperate grab for the trunk, but Ruwach threw out his glowing hand and cut off the monster’s arm. It fell to the floor with a crash, shriveling up like a piece of paper thrown into the fire. With that, Ruwach raised up both hands, fire spilling out of his fingers in dizzying whorls, encircling Ponéros, who screamed and bellowed and thrashed about as the consuming fire burned him into nothing—empty and dark and devoid of life.

  And, just like that, in the face of the one who commanded every battle, Ponéros was gone.

  And all was quiet once again.

  CHAPTER 36

  Ambassadors

  The Prince Warriors looked around the Cave in wonder as Sparks danced above their heads. They were surprised to be back so soon after all that had happened. Viktor and the Glommers were gone. Everything was peaceful again.

  “Welcome, Warriors.” Ruwach gave them their usual greeting. He was small again, his face hidden inside the folds of his purple cloak. “You won a great battle. You have done well.”

  The Prince Warriors couldn’t quite recount all that had happened that day of the battle. But they knew they had contended with the enemy and, with Ruwach’s presence near, had defeated him. They knew that their victory would not have been possible without Ruwach’s power, a power that his unassuming form often masked.

  “Is Viktor—Ponéros—gone now? For good?” asked Evan. “’Cause I really don’t want to run into that guy again.”

  Ruwach made a noise that sounded like a sigh. “Ponéros will not give up so easily,” he said.

  “Then neither will we,” said Brianna, stepping forward and lifting her chin. The others nodded.

  “Yeah,” said Evan. “But I hope we don’t have another mission already, ’cause I’m still kind of beat from the last one.”

  Ruwach made a noise that might have been a chuckle. Then, without speaking, he spun around and sped down a tunnel. The kids followed, jogging to keep up with Ruwach’s usual fast pace. They raced into the Hall of Armor but kept going, into a larger, brighter space the kids had never been before. Once there, Ruwach stopped dead. The kids, prepared this time, didn’t run into each other when they came to a stop before him.

  They looked around, astounded at this new room. It looked a little like a fancy museum. Beautiful displays of armor hung on the walls all around them, each one accompanied by a large golden placard.

  “What is this place?” asked Evan. “A new Hall of Armor?”

  “This is the Hall of Honor,” said Ruwach. “I have brought you here to give you each a special gift. But first, I have something to show Manuel.”

  Ruwach raised a draped arm towar
d one of the sets of armor, set apart from the others.

  A puzzled expression washed over Manuel’s face. He turned and slowly walked toward the armor, leaning in to get a better look. He searched it carefully from top to bottom, wondering what Ruwach might want him to see. It was quite beautiful, the breastplate engraved with flowers—roses. Something about those roses jarred Manuel’s memory, making his mind flicker with nostalgia. Then his eyes landed on the placard at the base of the armor.

  The roses. Rosa. His mother.

  “Mamá.” Manuel’s voice cracked as he ran his fingers over the metal plate in disbelief. “This is my mamá’s armor?”

  Ruwach nodded again. “She was one of my most gracious and brave Princess Warriors. And, more than anything, she loved you.”

  “Will I—ever see her again?” Manuel asked.

  Ruwach’s hood nodded. “Of course you will.”

  Manuel pinched the corners of his eyes, his chest heaving slightly at the memory of his mother. Brianna walked to him and put her arm around his shoulder. Then, one by one, all the other Prince Warriors did the same thing. It was quiet a long time.

  “Thank you,” Manuel said finally, his voice rising in strength. “Thank you for showing me.”

  Ruwach reached toward Manuel, one of his long, bright glowing fingers emerging from his sleeve. He touched Manuel’s cheek, and his finger seemed to absorb the tears that lingered there, wiping them away.

  “Hey, look.” Xavier saw another suit of armor that looked familiar to him. He went toward it and pointed as the other Prince Warriors gathered to see. “It’s Rook’s.”

  There was Rook’s armor, displayed on the wall, with his name engraved on the golden placard beneath.

  Xavier turned to Ruwach, his face questioning. Ruwach moved to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “Do not be troubled, Prince Xavier. Rook is free. Like all the Prince and Princess Warriors who have gone before him, he dwells with the Source. And you will see him again, one day.”

  Xavier bent his head as a tear trickled down his cheek. “Thank you,” he murmured.

  Then Ruwach spread his arms wide. “I have gifts for all of you,” he said. “Kneel.”

  The kids slowly knelt, looking from one to the other in curiosity. Then Ruwach pulled something from his sleeve—a medallion engraved with the Crest of Ahoratos, bright gold, on a golden chain.

  “You are now citizens of Ahoratos,” Ruwach said. “You have been granted all the rights and privileges that come with this honor.”

  “Yes!” cried Evan, pumping his fist. Xavier nudged him, and Evan quickly put his hands behind his back, looking remorseful. “Sorry.”

  Ruwach went on. “But with this privilege comes a burden: as ambassadors of Ahoratos, you will live on earth and take seriously your mission of wearing your armor and standing firm against the enemy. And you are tasked with carrying the message of the Source wherever you go.”

  Ruwach paused, his voice softening, becoming more personal. “Beloved, you do not have to take this medal. You do not have to declare citizenship. But how I long for you to receive all of the gifts I have planned for you, all of the abundance that only comes to those who choose to make Ahoratos their true home.”

  Ruwach moved toward Xavier and placed the medallion around his neck. The Crest of Ahoratos flared. Xavier swallowed hard, lifting the medallion to get a better look at it.

  Ruwach went down the line, presenting a medallion to Levi, then Brianna, and the others, allowing them to make the choice to accept their citizenship. When he was done, he ordered them all to rise. Slowly they got to their feet.

  “I say to you all, well done, Prince and Princess Warriors. And welcome to Ahoratos. Remember that this is your true home. Always.”

  The kids looked at each other and began to smile. Evan burst out laughing.

  “Best. Day. Ever,” he said.

  Epilogue

  The score was 54-52 with six seconds to go. The Bedford Timberwolves had taken the lead with a perfectly executed jump shot. The game seemed to be over. Fans in the bleachers were already celebrating, shouting Timberwolves Rule! over and over.

  It was Xavier’s first championship game as a member of the Cedar Creek Lions basketball team. They’d come into the tournament as underdogs; the Timberwolves had won the championship three years in a row, and it looked like they were going to win again. Only five minutes ago the Lions had been leading by ten points, but it had been swiftly whittled away by a late Timberwolves comeback. When Xavier saw the other team’s ball swish through the net during that last play, he too thought it was over. There were no timeouts left.

  He glanced to the sidelines and saw Coach Thompson give the signal for the play he called “The Squeaker,” which they had practiced over and over for just this sort of situation. It was a long shot, but it was the only choice they had. Adrenaline raced through Xavier’s veins. This would be his chance to clinch his position as the best long-range shooter on the team. If he made the three-pointer, he would take his team to victory. He would be the hero.

  Xavier headed to the side of the court as the point guard took the ball, stepped behind the line, and passed it inbounds. Xavier jumped and grabbed the ball, whipped around, and dribbled down the court, dodging defenders who were all over him.

  Five seconds.

  He was three steps from the three-point line. I can make it, he thought as he pressed toward the basket. He could win this thing and nab the trophy for his team.

  Four seconds.

  But then out of his peripheral vision he saw his teammate Wilkins already positioned on the three-point line, his arms in the air. Wilkins was totally open. He had a clearer shot.

  Three seconds.

  Xavier swiveled to find an opening in the defense and then made the split second decision to pass the ball to Wilkins, who leapt up for the shot. The ball sailed down court and swished through the net as the buzzer sounded. The Lions had won at the buzzer, 55-54. And Wilkins had made the unforgettable final shot.

  Cedar Creek fans went crazy. The stands erupted as jubilant friends and family stormed the court. Their teammates jumped on Wilkins, wrestling him to the floor in celebration.

  Xavier’s mom was the first on the court to give Xavier a hug, followed by a more manly embrace from his dad, and a congratulatory smack on the shoulder from Mr. J. Ar.

  “I see you remember what I taught you,” Mr. J. Ar said with a laugh.

  “Yes, sir,” said Xavier.

  “You coulda taken that shot, Xavi,” said Evan, his eyebrows raised. “Then you’d have won the game!”

  “I thought it was very selfless,” said Ivy, who came up to greet Xavier with Levi and Brianna. “Great job, Xavier.”

  “Yeah, stellar,” said Brianna.

  Xavier smiled, glancing over as Wilkins was now lifted onto the shoulders of his teammates and paraded around while they chanted his name.

  “Why didn’t you go for it?” Levi asked.

  Xavier shrugged. “Wilkins had a better shot.”

  “We’ll meet you outside,” said Ivy. “Want to go for ice cream?”

  “Sure,” said Xavier. “Thanks for coming, guys.”

  Xavier turned as Coach Thompson came up to him and shook his hand.

  “We wouldn’t be here without you, Xavier,” he said.

  “Thanks, Coach.”

  The Lions had won their first championship, and it felt good. But Xavier knew the feeling would be temporary. He had battled Ents, Forgers, Glommers, and Ponéros himself, so basketball didn’t seem nearly as important as it once did. And victory, true victory, had a whole new meaning.

  Xavier headed to the locker room. It was practically empty, as most of the team was still on the court celebrating. That could have been me, he thought. Maybe he should have kept the ball and made that basket himself. />
  He heard a beep from inside his locker. His phone. He reached in and pulled it out. The UNSEEN app had opened, and there was a message on the screen:

  Set your mind on things unseen.

  He sighed to himself. A reminder from Ruwach. As good as it would feel to be lifted up on the shoulders of teammates, hearing his name chanted, it felt even better to know that what he really needed, he already had. And that who he really was was an ambassador of Ahoratos on assignment from Ruwach. Nothing else mattered.

  That didn’t mean he couldn’t have fun doing things he enjoyed. And it also didn’t mean that it would always be easy. There were plenty of challenges and obstacles ahead. Those things would never entirely go away. But at least he knew, as did all the Prince Warriors, that he already had everything he needed to deal with whatever came his way.

  He grabbed his gym bag and his jacket, shut the locker, and headed out the door. He saw his friends waiting for him on the sidewalk. But then he stopped, aware of a warm glow overhead, like a streetlamp, only brighter. He looked up and let out a breath.

  It wasn’t a streetlamp.

  It was the Crest.

  Turning slowly just above his head.

  Acknowledgments

  With extravagant gratitude to . . .

  . . . Dan Lynch. You have been an incredible leader and partner in this project. Thank you for coming alongside of us in this vision. I will always be grateful for your investment in me, this ministry, and this work.

  . . . the committed team at B&H Publishing Group. Michelle, Rachel, and Jana, thanks for making fiction so fun.

  . . . Gina Detwiler. Thank you for dreaming big, thinking deep, and casting your creative vision wide enough to capture the essence of these characters and this story. You’ve been one of the brightest and best surprises of this season in ministry.

  . . . Tim and Tracy. This series could never have come to fruition without your family. You are friends. True friends. Thank you.

  . . . my mother, Lois, and mother-in-law, Mary. Thank you for living and loving well. You have cultivated children and now grandchildren who are warriors for God and His kingdom. Your example has shown me how to raise sons with integrity and character. I am indebted to you.