Aegeus' Story

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Aegeus' Story Page 5

by Ruth Anne Scott


  One week before capture…

  The light of the candles flickered over the faces of those gathered around the cloth stretched across the floor of the cavern. They sat in a tight circle, as if their proximity could somehow further their connection and allow them to offer their own energy and strength to one another while protecting their shared knowledge within just the space that they created. Aegeus looked into the faces of the men around him. They were so few in number, and yet he could feel the power and influence that they had. They were stronger than anyone knew and they would lead the rebellion, bringing them to victory.

  “There is danger ahead of us,” he said, looking into the faces of each of the men. “What we are really facing, none of us actually knows. But we are ready. As ready as anyone could ever be. I believe in every one of you. There were so many times when any of you could have walked away. You could have simply been done with all of this and followed the easier path. You could have bowed to your fear or your exhaustion. You could have let uncertainty control you. But you didn’t. You remained strong and you continued on with what all of us know is the truth and the right thing. Each of you has my faith, my loyalty, and my thanks.” Each of the men nodded at him and Aegeus reached for the cup in front of him, picking it up and holding it high. “Tonight, we don’t think of what lies just ahead of us, but what is beyond that. Tonight, we plan for victory. Tonight, we celebrate.”

  He lifted his glass higher as the rest of the men cheered their agreement and lifted theirs to meet his. He drank deeply, refreshing his body as the time that he spent rejoicing with the men refreshed his soul. They had only days. Only days until all that they had planned for would finally come to fruition.

  Three days before capture…

  Aegeus walked into the meeting hall with greater confidence than he had the last time that he visited. Vyker and Galadriel waited for him at the long table and greeted him as he approached.

  “Is everything in place?” Vyker asked.

  Aegeus nodded.

  “Yes. The Denynso will call them to battle in three days. We will meet in the badlands and I will enter the battle to ensure that they see me there before the Eteri picks me up and the Irisa conceals me. It will happen in a matter of seconds. We have practiced the maneuver several times and can do it seamlessly.”

  “Has anyone heard from Martin?” Galadriel asked.

  Aegeus shook his head.

  “No.”

  She drew in a breath and nodded. He could see in her eyes that she was as afraid as he was about the fate of the human man, but there was little that he could do. They had to continue moving forward and simply hope that Martin was still running from whoever had been chasing him and would make his way back to them. He had so much of his own to fight for.

  “Has Mhavrych had any luck?” he asked.

  “No,” Vyker said. “Our only hope is that when he comes of age and can fully take on his role of Protector, the greater access he will achieve will allow him to find it.”

  Aegeus looked at Galadriel.

  “Tell me again,” he appealed. “Tell me that in your time, years from now, Uoria still exists.”

  Galadriel gave him a smile that was veiled in tears. Her existence was subject to the same complex reality as Vyker and Mhavrych, but the truth was that she wasn’t like them. She was human, a former inhabitant of Earth. In the time that Aegeus standing right at that moment, it was still countless years until she would be born on Earth, yet she had been in this realm with Vyker for more than twenty. In the same way, Aegeus had not yet been born, his planet a different stream that brought him into a different place and time when he came to visit his allies.

  “You know that that can change,” she told him regretfully.

  “I know,” Aegeus said. “But tell me.”

  “When I was on Earth, before I came to live in this realm, Uoria was still strong.”

  Aegeus nodded, the words giving him a sense of reassurance even though he knew that what Galadriel had said was true. Though they had once believed that time was what it was and could not be changed, they had learned that that wasn’t true. Vyker had been able to manipulate the future, changing things thought permanent, in order to communicate with Galadriel when she was stuck in her time, unable to get back to him. He knew that just because Uoria was safe when she was on Earth didn’t mean that years in the future, when that time would come again, things would be the same. That future still relied on him. The continuation of the Universe as he dreamed it to be rested on the back of the rebellion. Hearing that it was possible, though, encouraged him and helped him to believe, even more, that he would succeed.

  What happened? How did this happen? How could it have fallen apart so quickly? Was this already in motion then? Was the one who would betray him already in place, already revealing him and his plans to Ryan? Aegeus closed his fists, balling them up so tightly he could feel his fingernails cutting into his palm. The pain was almost a relief. It was something of his own control that he could exert on himself rather than allowing it to be exerted onto him. The fury was building within him, sharper and more detailed now than even that dark, bitter day. He had had so much time to think, so much time to wonder. It was no longer just about him.

  In those first moments he had thought of himself, pure, adrenaline-fueled desire for survival pushing him forward. Now that that had drained away, though, he thought of those he had left behind. What had happened to them? How many were still alive? What had they told Ellora and his sons? The more he thought about it, the angrier he became, pushed toward the brink of control over his mind, driven to near-madness.

  This was what Ryan wanted. It was what he had planned. He was beginning the transformation, the very thing that Aegeus hated, and the more that he allowed his anger to take over, the more that he fed into the change. He couldn’t let it happen. He had to remember what brought him here, what he believed. He had to remember who he was if he was going to have any chance to stop it.

  Chapter Eight

  Morning of the battle…

  Aegeus woke long before the first hints of sunlight touched the horizon. He couldn’t wait any longer, though his heart wished that he could remain in bed with Ellora. He wanted to hold her, to cradle her to him and savor every second that he could touch her. His body still felt warm and satisfied from making love to her the night before, but it wasn’t enough. He could never get enough of her. There would never be a moment in his life when he felt that he had spent enough time with her, given her enough kisses, held her for long enough.

  He watched his young sons sleep for several minutes, wanting to remember the sound of their breathing so that he could mimic the slow, steady rhythm when he stepped into battle. That rhythm would calm him, keep him controlled as he waited for the moment that he had been building toward for so long.

  Finally, the light began to stream into the windows and his children woke, smiling to find him in their room. It was a special treat for them to see him when they first rose in the morning and he treasured the sound of their delighted voices and the feeling of their tiny bodies clambering up into his arms so he could carry them into the kitchen for breakfast. They ate together happily, Maxim talking as quickly as the words would tumble out of his mouth and Kyven chattering along with him, oblivious to all that was happening. Ellora held Aegeus’ hand over the table, squeezing it occasionally as if just to make sure that he was there. She knew that he was leaving that morning for battle. It was something that he had done many times before. Though those times apart were never more than a few days, and often far shorter than that, she always dreaded the moments when he would walk out of the house.

  When the time came for him to leave Aegeus kissed each of his sons on their heads, taking a moment with each to tell them that he loved them, never wanting them to doubt, even for a second, that he carried them in his heart everywhere that he went. He would be back soon. They might barely notice that he was gone. But until he was back, he wanted his presence
with them. Maxim looked up at him, lifting his hands to touch them to his father’s cheeks as if holding his face still. He stared into Aegeus’ eyes for a few long seconds.

  “Love you, Papa,” he said.

  The little boy said the words with such seriousness as if it was the most important thing to him in that moment that his father know he loved him. Aegeus’ heart felt like it might burst and he held his son to him for a longer hug, whispering the sentiment in return, before releasing him back to play.

  Ellora met him by the door, the smile on her face tremulous and not reaching her eyes. She always smiled at him before he left. It was something that Aegeus loved about her. One of the countless things that he loved about her. She never wanted him to walk out of the house without seeing her smile. He took her hands and brought them to his lips, kissing them softly.

  “I love you,” he said.

  “I love you, too. Stay safe.”

  “I will.” He leaned down to kiss her. “I’ll be back. I promise.”

  She nodded.

  “I know.”

  He kissed her again and left, not allowing himself to look back over his shoulder at her. He never gave himself that moment. It would be too hard to pull himself away if he saw his wife with the smile gone and the fear and worry etched on her beautiful face.

  What happened then? He had to remember.

  The feeling of the vehicle beneath him as they rode toward the badlands. They would hide the vehicles out of sight so that when the enemy army approached they wouldn’t know what they were facing.

  Then what? What happened?

  The smell of the badlands burning. The acrid air burning down his throat and into his lungs. The sound of the cracking and sifting of the earth beneath his feet, suddenly obliterated by the air-splitting battle cry of the Denynso and they streamed down the rocky hill and into the battlefield.

  When did they come? Remember. He had to remember. When did he see them for the first time? He couldn’t remember. All he could remember was the chaos around him and the weight of the sword in his hand.

  He drew his father’s sword and ran into the growing fray. Though he couldn’t see them, he knew that the Irisa and the Eteri warriors were on either side of him. They wouldn’t acknowledge him, wouldn’t even look at him. The less that they interacted, the less likely it was that anyone would notice what really happened to them when they disappeared.

  They were there. He knew they were there. They wouldn’t forsake him. They wouldn’t forget him.

  Athan was behind him. Aegeus could hear the sound of his battle cry rippling through the armies. He didn’t know what was to come. He only knew that he was to meet Aegeus back at the war room after the battle. They had hidden the final plans from him, not because they didn’t trust him or think that he deserved to know, but to protect him and the plan itself. If he knew what was to happen, there was a chance that he could do something, even inadvertently, that would reveal what was happening to those around him. Not only could that prevent any of it from happening the way that it was supposed to, but it could put his very life in danger when the Panel realized that he was a part of the rebellion all along.

  He watched him disappear. Athan was there. Every moment. He watched him get tossed into the air by the Valdician and then disappear, swept into the arms of the Eteri that was as invisible to those around him as Aegeus was, cloaked into looking like the badlands around them by the Irisa. It had begun.

  Aegeus bit into his lip to prevent his groan from being heard. The snap of electricity that had hit him when he rose into the air had seemed to explode in his belly, sending painful shockwaves through him, but he had to stay silent. He couldn’t let anyone hear him as the Eteri flew him away from the battle and back toward his home. If they did, if even for a second they believed that there might be somewhere there, the reflection would dissolve away and he would be revealed.

  How far did he get? Did he get back to the Kingdom? Those moments had disappeared from his memory. He didn’t know how far the Eteri flew or where the enormous winged man went when he set him on the ground. Aegeus fought against the chains, screaming, the pain and anger of that day boiling in his blood and vaporizing the air in his lungs until he felt he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t remember the flight. He couldn’t remember the sound of the battle fading behind him. He couldn’t remember when the Eteri stopped to put him down. But he could remember the pain.

  The hard blow to the back of his head sent Aegeus sprawling across the ground. The impact took the breath out of his lungs and pain coursed through his legs where his knees had dug into the dirt. He rolled over, but before he could begin to get up, another crushing blow in the middle of his chest flattened him to the ground again.

  How many of them were there? How did they find him?

  The blasting, blistering pain of boots smashing into his head. The cold of metal around his wrists.

  Where did the Eteri go? Did he survive? What was his name? Why couldn’t he remember? Dear god, why couldn’t he remember?

  The suffocating feeling of the hood coming down over his head for the first time. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t see what was around him.

  Where was he?

  The feeling of his body being dragged through the dirt and hideous laughter as he choked on the dust that clogged his throat and filled his lungs. Stone beneath him. The clang of a metal door slamming closed in front of him. Breath. Deep breaths. Not his own. There was someone else in the space with him. Someone else was close enough that he could hear the air behind dragged through his mouth and down his throat and then forced back out, taunting Aegeus and his desperate draw for air through the hood.

  Breathe. He had to breathe.

  Then a voice. A voice that he had never heard. Dark and sinister even in its youth. A voice close enough that it could be in the room with him, yet he knew that it was just beyond the metal door that had slammed closed. He couldn’t get to the person, even as he clawed his way across the floor, stopped after only a few feet by the chains smashing against the rings that now bound him to the wall behind him.

  “Aegeus,” the voice said. “The Great One.”

  Chapter Nine

  And now here.

  The voice around him always. Never leaving him. Never allowing him to sleep.

  Ryan’s voice. Taunting him. Following him through the years, its changing a way to mark the passage of time.

  What had once been the voice of a young man, only just away from being a child, was now deep and ragged, the voice of a man.

  His own years had left him. His youth was gone. Aegeus, the Great One, was no longer the young warrior he had been when he walked into that battle. He was aged. He was changed. But he was still strong.

  Ryan hadn’t been able to stop him, to take away all that he was, no matter how hard he tried. Aegeus had tried to escape. The bloodied clothes and woven, hardened scars proved it. When it became clear that he wouldn’t be able to get out, he turned his attention instead to what he could learn from being there. He listened. He absorbed all that he could. He crept into the mind of the darkness and madness that dwelled within Ryan and sought to understand as much of it as he could. One day he would get out, and when he did, he would carry with him a deeper knowledge of this man than anyone knew.

  He knew that the fighting wasn’t over. It had never ended. Uoria was alive and thriving. His kind was still going on. They were no longer alone on Uoria, but the aspiration to overtake and control the planet on his own was no longer what drove Ryan. His focus had shifted back. He had returned his energy to breeding his army. Ryan still had control in the Order and that control was growing. Aegeus knew that the lull that had happened in the years that he spent imprisoned was over. The quiet time had come to an end. War was near and the end was looming. He just had to fight.

  There were others now. They were there. They had come.

  Aegeus fought to get out of the darkness, to get to the thick wall that kept him from the rest of
the laboratory. He knew that Ryan was standing out there. He was right there, holding a child. Aegeus could hear the baby’s cries. He didn’t know whose baby it was or why Ryan would have it, but he knew in the very depths of his soul, the place of him that had been tormented and tortured nearly beyond recognition and taught in a way that he never could have imagined that the cruelty that had befallen him at the hands of this monstrous scientist was only the beginning of his capabilities, that the only reasons he would have a child were to further his horrific plans.

  "Here!"

  A woman’s voice cut through the sounds of the baby crying and Aegeus felt a slight boost within him. She didn’t sound injured and rather than her voice fading as though she were trying to run from Ryan, it was getting louder and stronger. She was coming toward them. For the first time in however long it had been since Ryan had held him, there was someone who was coming toward them who didn’t sound like one of Ryan’s followers.

  Beyond the sound of the voice, Aegeus heard footsteps. They blended and overlapped until he couldn’t decipher them individually, telling him that there were more, many more, than just the woman he had heard shouting. They were rushing down the corridor toward where he was chained. A door opened in the distance and Aegeus felt his heartbeat rising. Anger and aggression were starting to build within him, but he fought them, pushed them down. He wouldn’t allow them to take over. Not now. Not when he might have a chance.

  Another door opened. Close this time. Aegeus tried to remember when he had been brought here. It had been weeks, maybe months, but there was a hazy memory of the brief moment that he spent without the hood on his head. He was being led through a laboratory and into a tank where he was chained, able to move only inches to either side. The tank around him was darkened so he could barely see anything, but he remembered the door. She had gone through the first room and was now in the lab where he spent every moment fighting the urges inside of him that he knew Ryan wanted, while still dreaming of ways that he was going to get out.

 

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