There is a gentle knock on the door and reluctantly Jessica opens it to admit Joel. She recedes into the corner, watching him as he retrieves the blankets from the closet. He turns and makes for the door, never once looking at her, but he stops suddenly and squints his eyes as he turns his head to look at her. Smiling, he speaks, “I’ll be back shortly. We need to talk.” With that he leaves the room and treads down the hallway to the vacant one that had previously been occupied by Cole and Ashe and now serves to accommodate the refugees.
Keeping his promise, he returns and closes the door behind him. He takes a seat in the chair in front of the desk and stares at Jessica for the longest time before finally beginning.
“So much has happened today, and its barely even noon. I am exhausted, running on this sense of duty and obligation. This morning I was up with the sun. Lara had said it was urgent, that we may already be too late. We took the horses into the forest and she led me to a waterfall. We found Kae and Chase there, dying. I saved Kae. I saved her with my tears. But Chase died. He died, Jessica.” He rubs his eyes, irritated. “And then he was alive again. He’s here now. He never even left Smithee. Apparently he had gotten lost, met some guy named Old John who told him the way to Verdana and about a guy with a boat named Tom. He said—Chase said—that Tom had business at this cottage, but he didn’t know what it was.” He looks searchingly at Jessica but receives no response from her. He continues, “Tom gave him a ring and he gave the ring to Kae. They’re together now. But Chase says that he cannot stay here, that he must continue his journey.
“Kae says that last night they had fought some Sentran soldiers. They destroyed the bridge by the waterfall, decimating a good portion of the dark forces, but they had overexerted their powers and it nearly killed them. That rain of fire we had seen was Chase’s power. Kae has the power of water. It seems that we all are Chosen. I still wonder what exactly that means.” He sighs, “All this and I still have not had breakfast.
“And when we rode out this morning, all of the bodies were gone. Disappeared. I don’t like it. When we were coming back we came across some weary villagers. It was then we learned that Verdana had been destroyed. The Sentran soldiers had burned it when they made their way here. It is uncertain as to how many were able to escape. Lara is searching the area for survivors as we speak. According to the refugees, there had been no warning. It had all happened so quickly. They said that the streets were filled with smoke when they stumbled from their homes. The villagers were crowding at the portcullis gate in order to escape, but it was closed. It was then they realized that the enemy still remained outside the gate and that the walls themselves, stone walls, Jessy, were burning. Can you believe that, Jessy? These men were not human.”
Jessica whispers, “They had been, once. But you’re right. They are not human. They are not even of the living. This was an army of the dead, revived by magic. The battle last night only delayed the inevitable. The bodies did not disappear nor did we kill them. They merely returned to the darkness and will rise again. I have seen this.”
Joel runs his hand through his hair. “So there is no end to this. They’ll just keep coming. What are our options? Keep them here, somehow, until we can find a way to defeat Mala?”
“We’ll do whatever we have to. We have to keep in mind that Mala is our prime target, her army a mere distraction, and she is, without a doubt, the most vulnerable. She hides behind power and throws her minions upon us because she herself is powerless. Her magic is not her own. It is not who she is, unlike our own powers which define us. Her ability is to change what is natural to unnatural. What has been created is utterly destroyed and warped to suit her own purposes.” She moves towards the window, momentarily looking out of it before turning her gaze upon Joel. “We must focus on the task at hand. I … we cannot be distracted. Everything is too complicated now.”
Joel bites his lip. “You have made your choice. I will respect your decision.”
Jessica stares at him, almost viciously. “I told you not to read my mind. Does no one respect my privacy?” She sighs as she sits down upon the bed. “But at least you understand.”
Joel rises abruptly, pushing the chair aside as if it had somehow scorned him. “No, I do not understand. Am I not real enough for you? Or is it that I am too real? No, don’t answer. Like I said before, I do not need to read your mind to know what you are thinking. I see it in your eyes, and if I wasn’t so exhausted I would feel sorry for you. You confuse what is real and cloud reality with assumptions and obligations based on half-truths. And because of your indecision, things become complicated. Only when you adjust your vision, your perception, will you find the peace necessary to fully embrace your power and who you are. And until you do, until you can be comfortable with yourself, I will always be a challenge to you. We are only fourteen. We have time. But I cannot wait forever.”
Jessica rubs her temples. “What are you saying, Joel?”
He throws his arms out to his sides, frustrated. “Isn’t it obvious, Jessica? There can be no ‘us.’ At least not until you have worked through whatever issues you have. I will always be there for you, as a friend, and I will be your strength if you need me to be, and I will always believe in you, but I should never have kissed you. You weren’t ready.” He sighs and walks towards the door, his back to her. “Let me know when you are. But know that I am making no promises.” He opens the door and in the next flurry of a moment he is gone.
Jessica jumps out of bed and slams the door shut, panting heavily in anger and regret. She makes her way back to her bed, huddling beneath the covers and drawing from them whatever comfort they could provide. Wiping away an angry tear, she grits her teeth. “I hate you, Joel Blader. You can have your pity, your friendship, your strength, your stupid faith. I don’t need any of it. I don’t need any of them. All I need is my power.” She cries despondently, frightened, as those dark words and darker visions dance through her head. “Is this how Mala feels? Am I … like her?”
* * *
Maria stands atop the hill with her arms crossed, as if in physical imitation of the inner struggle to keep herself calm and collected. She speaks as Tom exits the cottage and walks towards her. “I’ve sent the birds. One should reach Cape Terna by nightfall but it will take a few days for the other messenger birds to reach the outlying kingdoms.”
Tom clears his throat. “Do you think they’ll reply?”
Maria shakes her head. “No, but at least they will know of the situation. Mayhaps we can save other towns from the fate that was visited upon Verdana. At least they will have warning.” She turns to face him. “Has there been any word of survivors?”
“Lara isn’t back yet.” He sighs as he puts his hands in his pockets, “That could mean anything.”
She smiles weakly. “Let’s be hopeful for once, all right? I don’t think I can stand to worry anymore. I’m exhausted.” She sighs, “I just wish that things were … different. I want her to be happy.”
Tom smiles, noting the turn the conversation had taken. “She’s just like her mother, you know. Stubborn, willful, proud….”
Maria punches him lightheartedly. “I just wish I could be the mother to her that she needs. She’s drifting … and I’m frightened. I guess I always had this picture in my mind of her throwing her arms around me—accepting me for who I am—and us having long talks in the middle of the night, sharing our thoughts and secrets.” She turns her head towards the heavens. “Is it too much to ask for my own daughter to call me ‘mother’?”
Tom wraps his arms around her, bringing her hand up to his lips and kissing it. “Give her time. Her entire world, her entire life up to this point, has been shaken and she is confused. She needs to regain her balance, doubly so considering her abilities, and she will. We all need time to adjust to these rapid changes that are occurring.”
Maria looks back at him. “Do you ever tire of running? Do you regret the responsibility and sacrifices expected of you and for you to make?”
“There are times, however, when there is a crack in the foundation. It is infinitesimal at first, but stress factors enable the crack to grow and spread its influence to the other bricks and eventually the foundation upon which the future was built begins to crumble. Now is one of these times and the condition of the world will continue to worsen lest the few strong bricks remaining join their individual strengths and relieve the stress placed upon the world.
“These bricks serve a purpose, yes, but they by themselves can only see the world through their own eyes. They do not possess the ability to see the whole picture. Thus, they must seek aid from the Builder of the world, who laid the very first bricks of the foundation. The Builder, being merciful and not wishing to see his creation destroyed and saddened by the taint ravaging His world, shines His light upon the world so that He may guide the Chosen. That is our duty. We are His guiding light. And in remembering this, I continue along the trail upon which I had been walking, gladly sacrificing my own selfish desires to tackle the responsibility bestowed upon me.”
Maria steps away from him as she remarks rather coldly due to her guilt. “A simple no would have sufficed. Please excuse my moment of selfishness.”
Tom puts his hands on his hips. “I must say your egotism astounds me. First, you accept your role as a member of Oracle Seven, therein giving up your entire life to be infused with the light of wisdom; then you seclude yourself in this little cottage so you can raise seven orphans all by yourself, thus relinquishing your freedom, your marriage, and your ticket to see the world which you so love; and … and you even have the nerve to give your memento of me to some seventeen-year-old girl so that she could be one day be reunited with her true love. I am amazed. Simply amazed.”
“You mock me with your words,” Maria nearly cries. “What about the fact that I am trying to convince you to stay or that I am more concerned about my daughter acknowledging me for who I am than about the refugees slumbering in our house or that, no matter how futile, protecting the children from the pain effected by their ignorance is more important to me right now than guarding this knowledge that we had sworn to keep hidden until the time for revelation is come?” She sighs, “I know my duty and I will not endanger our mission, but that does not make this any less hard to deal with.” She fumes, “All of a sudden you are back in my life and just as quickly you will be gone. Do you have any idea what this will do to Jessica? And me? You are allowed to walk away from your problems but I, I am the one left to deal with them. Do you realize what it takes to raise seven kids, all different and unique but still with the penchant to drive you crazy at the end of a long day? Did you know that Joel had a rat for a pet and even brought this thing into the house, our house? I found it in his laundry of all places. And after the day is done, when I am alone in my bed, I think of you, wondering where you are, if you are even still alive, and if you ever loved me. Do you still have my ring, or did you give it to the first pretty girl that looked at you with shy eyes? Are you married, Tom, and have you come here for a good time because you were in the area?”
He interrupts her raving, “I am married, Maria.”
Maria nearly chokes on her own words. “What!?”
Tom laughs and draws her into his arms. “I am married to you, or have you forgotten? But you are right. I no longer have your ring. I gave it to Chase.”
Maria hugs him in merriment, forgetting her anger of only moments before. “You did? Seriously? How did you know? Did you have a vision too?”
Tom smiles. “Yes, seriously. But no, I did not have a vision. Although … there was something in the air…. It just seemed the right thing to do.”
She sighs happily as she turns in his arms and stares out at the western horizon, “I am glad.” She looks back up into his blue eyes, darker than normal in this receding light of the afternoon. “For eleven years I have harbored this fear that my life before Oracle Seven was just some dream, forever fading into fantasy as the harsh reality of the present takes precedence. For eleven years I have been perpetuating this fate that is my duty to protect but at the same time have run from my own destiny. For so long I had looked at my youth as something that I had sacrificed, but I see now that it was something that I had been given, just like the prophecy-free childhood we had given to the Chosen, to our daughter. But whether a sacrifice or a gift, this is my life now and I will live it.” She turns her gaze upon the orange sky beyond framed by the rugged mountains of the west. She smiles and whispers a prayer, “I am ready to receive the light, O Lord. Light the way so that I may guide your lambs through the encroaching darkness.”
Tom lowers his head to be level with Maria’s, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Hmm? What did you say?”
Shaking her head, she continues to stare out at the horizon. “Nothing. I was just staring at the sunset. You know, it is one of those many things that we take for granted. What if tomorrow the sun did not rise? What if the world was to be forever shrouded in darkness? What would we do? And if we knew of such a phenomenon prior to its happening, how would we spend our last days of sunlight? How many people would accept the inevitability—or worse, perpetuate it—and how many would choose to do something about it?”
Tom laughs as he hugs Maria closer to him. “You worry too much. The Lord Himself fights for us, and as for Mala, well, she has not realized the propensity of the situation she has gotten herself into. With only seven people privy to the most possible of futures for Ilia, the world is already in darkness and its people will continue on in their daily lives strolling down the streets of blissful ignorance. And we who are not ignorant are tasked with letting our light shine in hopes of guiding them onto the one true path that leads to life. Here on Smithee, the war in Nesthra is viewed as far away and separate. People believe this war will never consume them but beneath this false sense of security something terrible and unidentifiable haunts them. Evil will feed on this unspoken fear and, in the end, it will destroy them. Unfortunately, despite our best efforts, some will still choose to live the remainder of their sun-soaked days in the darkness that so blinds them with the radiance of the lie.”
“And this makes you cheerful?” Maria asks incredulously.
Tom smiles. “No, but the fact that there is still hope for humanity does. God has given us His light so we can defeat the darkness. He has called forth the Chosen to preserve that light and to teach others how they can do the same. Even the physically feeble or impaired are not spiritually defenseless if they possess this hope. It is when we let the darkness rule our hearts that all hope is lost. There will come a day when there will be no more second chances and the sun will not rise for those that have refused the light. But for now, even for the lost, all the yesterdays and todays have been graced by the presence of the sun. So, yes,” he breathes deeply and closes his eyes for a moment before resuming, “for the benefit of those forsaken souls, it makes me happy that Tomorrow is not Today and that when Tomorrow finally does come they will at least have the me
mory of the sun as it had shone Yesterday.”
Maria wraps his arms around her and together they face the setting sun. With a solemn smile a single tear rolls down her cheek and she speaks softly yet resolutely, “That same dark day will be one of glory for the children of the light.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The sun was setting and still there was no sign of any survivors. When she had set out early this morning, it only seemed logical that she was the best choice for this seek-and-rescue mission, but as the day waned her hopes died with it. Flying high above the forest and the surrounding area, she could see each little ant scurrying along the ground and even hear them munching on the spoils of their hard labor, but any shred of evidence of human activity was gone. And not gone like it had a mind of its own to get up and leave, but gone as if it were missing—snatched up from this world as it had aimlessly wandered through the turmoil that had become its life.
Some wisp of a whisper had been thrumming through her head all day, but it was always beyond her grasp, beyond her recognition. She would listen carefully, focusing on it just to get some idea of its source, but it seemed to be everywhere and nowhere all at once. Several times the murmur seemed louder in certain places and she would hover there, always trying to tune into it, but then she would be thrown backwards as if she had run into a wall and a sickness akin to how she felt when she had been indoors for too long would overcome her. Once she regained her equilibrium, she would return to the same spot and find it disquietingly empty—as if the nameless whisper had moved on. It was during these moments that she felt utterly shut out from the world, not as the only one left, but the only one left behind. Wherever the human race had gone to, or been taken, she alone had been excluded. She alone had been denied on account of something that she had no control over. She is the Wind.
Book One: Beginnings Page 19