by Jarod Meyer
It was this very Synod that created laws so rigid that only the purest of souls could enter here. Those deemed unworthy were left to walk the spirit realm known as Valchonia, or worse, be consumed by the darkness of Dichonia. Dichonia was created to imprison Lucifer and his evil creations. It was known throughout mortal histories as the underworld, or hell.
The group finished their grand entrance into the room by sitting simultaneously in their large seats. William was not one for ceremony, and he found himself rolling his eyes. Brock’s large white toothy grin met his gaze. William put a hand to his mouth, exaggerating a yawn. Some of the other Guardians looked at him with disdain.
“This Military Synod is convened. We are gathered here to answer the threat of Dichonia. Due to recent events it has become clear to the Synod that our lands are no longer safe,” Isis said, carefully adjusting the collar on her flowing Aqua-blue robes.
Next, the Prophet from Islam, Ibrahim spoke, the sleeves of his maroon tunic falling loosely over his arms as he sat with fingers together in front on him. “Our first order of business is to appoint a new high protector to lead the Sentinel Corps. As many of you are aware, all of Archonia has suffered a great loss as the mighty warrior Zeus led a valiant attack against our enemy, costing him his soul.”
William heard this a few days after the battle, and still couldn’t believe it. Next to Achilles, Zeus was one of the mightiest warriors in all of history, both mortal and immortal. He was revered as the king of the gods in ancient Greece, and had been the commander of the Sentinels for thousands of years.
William felt a nudge in his side, and looked to Brock, who whispered, “I won’t believe he is gone until I see the body.”
“Plenty of Archonians were obliterated, or torn to pieces that day, Brock,” William replied, sighing.
William saw the man fight, which made it even harder to believe that he perished.
“The Synod has decided that the great and honorable Mikael will take over the post as Commander of the Sentinels,” Ibrahim continued.
A rumble issued through the audience, and Ibrahim raised a hand to silence them. As he did a man walked forth from the sea of dark, blue capes. His bulky silver armor was inlaid with many sapphires and his breastplate was the shape of a roaring sabretooth tiger. His skin was nearly black, making the whites of his eyes the most prominent feature upon his severe face.
One of the Synod members stood, and started swearing in the new commander. William lost interest, and leaned over to Brock.
“Who is that?” he asked his companion.
“Mikael, little brother,” Brock said, furrowing his brow.
“Yes, I heard them say his name, idiot. Why the chatter?” William asked, indicating the on-looking crowd.
Brock’s face became serious. He looked around, but everyone seemed involved with the oath being given by the strange figure.
“Mikael used to command the entire Archonian military. In his time he was unequalled in combat by anyone. He was a brilliant leader and tactician, but his iron clad sense of duty drove him to the brink of madness. He sent millions of souls to their doom without hesitation, and it was for this reason that Archonia was able to defeat their adversary. He was not evil by any means, but at the end of the war he was asked to step down from the mantle of leadership, and Zeus took over. He has been unofficially retired for thousands of years,” Brock finished.
William stared in wonder at this soldier kneeling before the Synod. His long blue cape flowed down the steps of the platform behind him, displaying yet another saber tooth this one crouched to strike.
It was no wonder there were gossipy voices in the audience. Mikael finally rose, and saluted with one arm across the chest, bowing low to the Synod. Then he turned and bowed, saluting to the crowd. Everybody followed suit, including William.
William finally noticed that it was Anubis who gave the oath. As he finished he flourished his emerald encrusted arm wear as holding his Egyptian headdress in place as he sat.
“Thank you, Anubis, and congratulations, Mikael,” Ibrahim said. “Our second order of business is to discuss this recent attack on our sovereignty. It has come to light that a fallen Archonian has discovered a way to breach the protection provided by the twin obelisks.”
This evoked a rumble from the entire room, and one of the Synod Guard clanked his giant spear upon the floor again. William had heard and read much about the twin obelisks which were constructs that contained the power of the twin Archons. They gave their lives to create a barrier between the lands of Archonia, and Dichonia. This brought an end to the seemingly endless mayhem between worlds.
“To provide us with the details of how this catastrophe was possible, I ask that we bring forth the one directly responsible,” Ibrahim said, motioning with a hand toward a smaller set of doors behind William and the other Guardians.
The doors were black onyx, and William remembered them well from when he walked through them on his first day in Archonia. Beyond those doors were the holding cells where people were locked up to await trial.
They swung open slowly, revealing a man bound with many large chains. He was surrounded by a group of Guardians. William was shocked. This man was one of the highest-ranking officers in the Adjudicator corps. A man, who until recently, William thought to be a traitor, and the cause of the battle that left so many souls destroyed.
Shorter than most of the other soldiers guarding him, his normally black, curly locks now hung tangled, and disheveled about his face. He wore only loose linen pants, and as he passed William could see many marks upon his body. They were symbols burned into his skin.
William recognized these brands for he bore two of them on his own chest. One signified that he was a liar, and the other a thief. Meredox was covered in them. In addition, whiplashes bled freely across his bare back. So many that William could not count them all.
William hit Brock in the chest with the back of his hand to get his attention, and the large man shrugged. How had this Adjudicator who was once so trusted become a prisoner, stripped and branded?
They walked him to the center of the room in complete silence. William looked around to see if he was the only one upset by this unnecessary display. The crowd appeared apathetic, which only made William angrier. They chained Meredox to the floor so that he was all but bowing to the Synod. Another Synod member stood. Isaiah, recognized from the Christian Bible, stood and opened his white cape, which was cocooning him. His long, perfectly groomed brown beard nearly reached the floor.
“Meredox of Helios…” Isiah began, but stopped as William casually approached the man chained to the floor.
The room remained silent. William ignored the silence and knelt down by Meredox. He snapped the chains apart with ease.
“Young Guardian, what is the meaning of this?”
William scoffed. “What is the meaning of this?” he asked, pointing to himself. “What is the meaning of this!?” He shouted in anger, pointing at Meredox, who watched him with pale, charcoal eyes.
The Synod looked at one another, and Isaiah continued. “This man has been deemed a traitor to the realm, and is to be made an example of.” Isaiah’s tone told William that it should be obvious.
“For what?!” William shouted wildly. He was actually impressed with himself that he hadn’t been removed by the guards yet. He looked over at Mikael, the new leader of the sentinels, who held a hand up, indicating that his men stay where they were.
Athena, another member of the Synod, spoke up in response. Rubies shone against the light on her diadem, making her dark black curls of hair glow. She sat comfortably in a pile of scarlet robes, which matched the fierce unnatural red of her eyes.
“Captain, you of all people should know what he is guilty of. His lies and his secrets opened our borders to the atrocities of war,” she said earnestly.
“And so…what? An eye for an eye? he asked, incredulously looking at Ghandi, the newest member of the Synod. The small man looked away in sham
e, adjusting his bifocals. William knew that he once quoted: “an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind.”
“He screwed up so you make him suffer for it? Tell me, how many of you could have killed your own brother?” William spat.
William looked around at the crowd, which remained silent. So he continued. “He lied. Okay,” William said ripping his breastplate off, and revealing his own scarred chest, the branded symbols shone in the light. The metal plate hit the ground with a clamor, and still no one spoke. “I’d bet every person in this chamber has lied both in this life and the previous one. Personally, I am tired of all of you pretentious bastards sitting up there on your high horses and pretending like you are better than everyone else,” he said, reaching down and helping a completely shocked Meredox to his feet.
On Earth William saw almost every religious person act this way. They claimed to worship a god and follow its creed, but every time they saw something or somebody they didn’t like they acted as if they were better than them. They would cast them out, and do horrible things that were supposedly justified.
Meredox had apologized to William for the mistakes he made, and that was all he could ask for. The ragged man nodded to William in appreciation, and turned his stare back to the Synod.
“It is true this man has made mistakes. He tried to cover up those mistakes, and it blew up in his face. He did not, however, run when they did nor did he blame anyone else. He faced them. He fought as valiantly as any other against the evil we faced at Mount Olympus,” William stated boldly.
“This from the tainted soul who wished to see this disgraced man dead mere weeks ago?” Ibrahim countered, scowling.
“It is true that we had a misunderstanding. This is what happens when people are selfish and do not trust one another. If everyone would simply throw away their foolish pride then people’s differences would be washed away, and a truly peaceful world could be made. We still fought over the most petty of differences on Earth even in my day and age. We thought ourselves to be a great society, but all I saw was idiocy and prideful squabbling,” William looked at Meredox. “This man is a truly powerful ally, and he knows more about our enemy than anyone in this room. Would you rather cast him out than forgive him like the good people you claim to be? I read a book once. There was a quote in it I’d like to recite. “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone,” he finished.
This, of course, was a complete bluff. He had never read the book, merely heard the quote from a movie he’d seen, but it sounded good.
William looked around at all the befuddled faces of the people in the scene. They couldn’t seem to believe that such a low ranking officer had the guts to speak this way to the grand Synod. Anubis stood tall, and looked as if he was going to shout, but Socrates, the leader of the Synod, put a hand up, and silenced him. The man in black robes with his short-cropped brown hair stood. His face was completely calm, and his voice was equally emotionless.
“My brothers, this young soul has taught us so much about ourselves in the short time he has been here, and here he stands, teaching us yet again. We have continually underestimated you, William of Archonia. I now ask for your forgiveness, as well as the forgiveness of our old friend, Meredox,” he offered with surprising tenderness.
Meredox bowed low, nearly falling over on his wobbly legs, and saluted
“It is given,” he replied.
William was completely thrown off, but nodded. “Yeah, what he said.”
Socrates continued. “William, however good your intentions were here I daresay that you could have been a little more cordial in your approach. Those who are responsible for this torture will be reprimanded. Know that this was not ordered by the Synod.”
William nodded and bowed.
“Given that you have interrupted this meeting and broken your chain of command. I must ask that you dismiss yourself from this meeting. Perhaps you can attend to your friend. I am certain the leader of our armies can brief us on what he knows,” Socrates finished.
William bowed low and grabbed Meredox under the arm, who looked like he was ready to keel over. As they exited the room they passed the group of his fellow Guardians. Some wore scowls, while others who wore grins of approval. Achilles stood emotionless, his gaze following William.
“Report to my private quarters this evening after your training, Captain,” the ancient warrior stated flatly.
William’s gut wrenched. He broke the chain of command and could probably kiss his rank as captain goodbye. Achilles might let him stay in the Guardian corps, but he doubted it. This was not the first time that his anger got him into trouble, nor was it likely to be the last.
CHAPTER TWO
CUNNING PLANS
William may as well have dragged his old enemy out of the Synod chamber. The man was so battered he scarcely knew how Meredox endured such punishment. Once they were clear of the meeting William spoke up.
“Good lord, you are heavier than you look.”
“Come now, William, has your training taught you nothing? I am as light as a feather,” Meredox said, and William felt a great weight lift free. This made him smile.
“Mind over matter,” William responded.
The two moved forward in silence for a moment. William was planning on taking Meredox to see his good friend Juarez who had a certain talent for healing.
“Thank you, William,” Meredox stated seriously.
“It’s no problem,” he responded casually.
“No, but it is a problem. This world has become something that it is not. These desperate times have made people’s minds go mad. I may, or may not, have deserved the way they were treating me, but I most definitely did not deserve what you did for me moments ago, young Archonian,” Meredox offered.
“I know better than most what it feels like to go through what you were going through. I guess you could say it pissed me off a little bit. Plus if anyone is going to kick your ass for what happened to Archonia, it better be me,” William said with a laugh.
Meredox shook his head and let out a single chuckle.
“I need to meditate,” the beat up man sighed, losing what little balance he had.
“I didn’t think you even needed to meditate anymore,” William responded.
“I have not for many years, but there are times when even my mind cannot comprehend certain events. The battle for one was no easy task for it,” he replied.
“Well, relax. I’m taking you to see my friend,” William said, as he hoisted the old Adjudicator gently onto his back.
He let his armor dissipate into thin air so that Meredox could be more comfortable. The trip took only minutes because William was becoming very fast. He flew across the city to the enormous military complex called Valhalla that housed all the soldiers of Archonia.
William avoided taking the front door and descended through one of the many holes in the stonework and into the castle’s main atrium. There were many floors some devoted to study, others to housing, and even some still to the armories where the sentinels who had never forged armor were outfitted.
An entire floor had been cleared, and was being used for the healing of soldiers that fought in The Battle of the Twin Soul. The aftermath of that battle were far reaching, and could be seen almost everywhere. Though healing wounds in Archonia was normally a simple task, they learned that those inflicted by creatures from Dichonia were much more serious.
William entered a long room containing thousands of beds. Moaning and screaming could be heard echoing off the granite. Suffering soldiers filled each bed Things had gotten better, but it had been much worse the first few days. Not only had the military been taken off guard, but they were vastly unprepared for the wounded.
As William walked past the many beds, dodging frantic healers hurriedly working between the patients, he spotted Angelica leaning over a woman, whose face was horribly mangled. Her bare muscles and tendons were exposed, showcasing Dichonia’s brutality up close. William shook his head in disbel
ief as she writhed in agony.
Angelica turned as if she sensed William’s presence, and smiled. “William!” she almost sang as she left the bedside. Her smile quickly faded as she caught sight of Meredox’s condition.
“What happened?” she asked in alarm.
“It’s okay. He tripped,” William smirked.
Meredox wheezed and rolled his eyes.
“I’m taking him to see Juarez,” William added.
“I think that would be wise, my healing powers are nowhere near his skill. They have been putting me with critical patients, simply to help dull the pain,” she said, indicating her patient.
“Keep working hard and you will get better. I should let you get back to it, I wouldn’t want these soldiers to feel any more pain than they have to,” William said seriously, for Meredox’s benefit.
Angelica saluted him, and whispered, “Will you meet me in the garden tonight?”
“I’m in a bit of trouble. If I survive the meeting I have with Achilles, I will meet you after,” William said softly.
She nodded and he continued past her, and down the pathway between beds. He saw one soldier sitting up in his bed, meditating, trying to regrow his leg. It looked like an arduous process. A soft ring of light surrounded the stump, and strife was painted clearly on the soldier’s face.
As William lugged Meredox along he finally saw who he was looking for. The slim man had dark olive skin and a perpetual carefulness on his face. He was shaking the hand of a soldier who appeared to have been completely cured. As the soldier walked past, William caught his friend’s eye.
“Amigos!” Juarez said loudly as he saw William and his companion.
William waved, and Meredox simply strained to look up. They gave him quite a lashing. William never saw a veteran as old as he was in this condition.
“Juarez can you handle another patient?” William asked.
“I just had a bed free up,” he offered, indicating the one he was standing next to.
William helped Meredox onto the bed, who gave a great sigh of relief.