by D M Robbins
License notes: This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be resold or given away to other individuals. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons—living or dead—actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Narican: The Cloaked Deception
Published by Douglas Robbins
Cover Design by Damonza.com
Edited by Athans Associates
Copyright © 2019 by Douglas Robbins
ISBN: 978-1-7333978-0-3
www.dmrobbinsauthor.com
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Hold close what is most precious, or your enemies will gladly strip it away.
—Narican Prophet Muzzana
Contents
THE RECKONING HAS BEGUN
THE HAUNTED BOY
UNSETTLED AND ALONE
THE FRAYING REALM
A THREAD PULLED
DEEPER IN WE FALL
BUMPING AGAINST THE SINISTER
SEEING IS NOT BELIEVING
STRANGE APARTMENT
ONE WEIRD MORNING
FLEEING WITH TANZ
SENTIENT BEING WAR AND THEIR SENTENCE
NARICAN AND THE SUN CLAN
TRAINING
MONSTER TRUCKS
BARN
RETURNING TO THE CITY
SPIRIT ANGEL
GRAND BOTANICAL GARDENS
THE PAIN DEALER
GATHERING AT THE SAFE HOUSE
THE DEMON TRAIN RIDE
THE WEIRD CAPITAL, FOOD, AND A POLITICIAN
AFTER BEING CAUGHT BY THE MOB
TO THE TOXIC ROOM
MUST SAVE HIM
SAFETY IN NO MAN’S LAND
EX-POLITICIAN AND REVOLUTIONARIES
INSANE ATTACK PLAN
TUNNELS
BATTLE FOR THE CAPITAL
KIMBEL ON THE WARPATH
STATEHOUSE, KING, AND WEIRD DEVICE
CHOPPER AND TANZ FLYING
DESTROY TO LIVE
GOODBYES WITH THE ADVANCED HUMANS
SATELLITES
SPIRIT END
QUALMSY NETWORK
THE RECKONING HAS BEGUN
Up close, a thin man kneels. His forehead pulsates a soft blue light like a flickering nightlight from under the cowl of a black robe that covers much of his elongated face. His lips do not move yet words come forth.
“Ancestor of the great beyond, hear me. I seek your wisdom.”
A gray cloaked shimmering man with three eyes appears upon a mountaintop of black onyx. His third eye resides in the lower portion of his forehead, forming a triangle with the lower two. Around the third eye’s edges, flecks sparkle as if heated coal embers. Emerald colored complex math equations hover in the air alongside him.
“What troubles you, Tanz, Son of Requiten?” His emerald green third eye sparkles while two black eyes remain fixed below.
“Toxic Whisperers sweep through the dimensions like a storm. Narican has fallen under their rule. It is the seat of the highest sentient beings.”
“Yes, and the home you were cast from. Unsettling, yet this is not the sole reason of your troubles.”
The kneeling man shakes his head while his forehead pulsates blue. “We were blind to this attack and did not see. These perpetrators hid themselves from the universal records. Yet I do not understand how.” Clearly vexed, the kneeling man continues, “My equation and the records must be incomplete. I have failed you and Narican.”
The specter closes his black eyes, searching for answers, while his radiant emerald eye remains open, dilating. “Your equation is infallible. Crevasses within the universe, even light beings cannot see.”
“In the past they were unable to perpetrate this. How did they come to circumnavigate universal knowledge?” His forehead pulsates where a third eye would be if standing upon Narican, his home.
“They have learned, Tanz. Evolved in their wickedness. The dark forces of the Toxic Whisperers always seek to exploit and corrupt.”
“These criminals are hidden, and now here, infiltrating this planet.”
The ancestor appears perplexed by this information. “In the third dimension?”
“Yes. I have witnessed the scouts, the haze clusters.”
“Hmm, this has eluded my sight. They may be clouding the energy channels. A powerful being is behind this.”
“But who? What do they want? Why now?”
“That, you must find out. If darkness reigns, the higher and lower dimensions will be lost. The gods of light will grow blind and disconnected like a flower pulled from its roots.”
“This is why I seek your council.”
“We can guide, yet cannot intervene with the living. Laws even we cannot defy. Enough blood has been lost, no?”
The man’s forehead pulsates blue. “By my accounting, more must be. These humans are vulnerable, weak sentient beings and easy prey for the dark forces.”
“I see your concerns. The human mind and spirit are often at war, misaligned with their higher purpose. Yet several do strive for alignment with their souls’ abilities, whereas many remain, never to advance.”
“It is only a theory,” the kneeling man projects, “yet they may attempt to prevent this alignment by submerging humans into permanent darkness.”
“And this will break the evolving chain of souls…Troubling indeed.”
“Thank you for speaking with me, Ancestor. Though there is one last thing. The boy, King Oneon’s son, is now of age. He does not know of my existence and does not know himself or our history. He too struggles with the Dichotomy, the torn mind.”
“At the right moment he will know you. He cannot do this alone, nor can you. To find answers he will need you and you will need him. These are dangerous times indeed for the living. Sentient beings are at stake. This is not the order of things. If unsuccessful, souls will be severed from their higher purposes, from the gods, and cast into eternal darkness.
“But be forewarned, Tanz, the humans are cunning and destructive of what they do not understand. Reveal only what is necessary. As the dark forces will also know the boy’s age, you must watch him closely.”
“When shall I act? His surrogate family was terminated after another attempt on his life.”
The specter closes his black eyes again while his green one remains open. “Impulse will call upon you. Listen to her. The intelligence of the universe will guide you to action.”
Blue pulsations cease, and the man now kneels alone inside a messy apartment with white walls, a tattered blue couch, and clothes strewn about. Opening his blue, intelligent eyes he rises and walks to a window. Opening the blinds, he peers out upon a busy city.
THE HAUNTED BOY
“Run, Claremone!” I hear over the clamor rising from the surprise attack. A spreading dark haze blows into the room. Familiar voices call to me. I am running. Perhaps five or six years old. My feet sluggish. We are running in terror inside the royal onyx palace as the heat of battle swells. Guards lower their lancers with illuminated spears standing at the ready to defend, but they are swiftly swallowed by the growing haz
e enclosing around them. Gone like ash in the wind.
Cornered by this nameless, faceless evil. One by one I see everyone about to die. Dark blades of mist coming down to take us all.
My mind snaps awake, and eyes strain left and right, scanning my little apartment, making certain I am alone. Dream energy fills the space.
My small desk, chair, end table, and throw rug by the door are as they were last night. It’s summertime in Big City. My pillow is soaked with sweat. This haunting dream has become nightly and clearer whereas just a few weeks ago it was vague and distant, scattered throughout my childhood.
Kicking off the top sheet and thin blanket, I place feet on the floor rubbing my face and red stubble. A rusty sun comes through the blinds. I wonder again as I have for the past week, if I died in this other world. Reading once that if we die in dreams we die in life.
Arguments rise from the city streets below. Something big is going to happen, I just don’t know what. The cauldron of humanity is already spilling over with anger and arguments everywhere I go. Each era has its own catastrophe: tsunamis, earthquakes, stock market crashes, war, disease.
The history books say one is coming for us. Sunlight radiates through my two windows, yet even the sun doesn’t look right lately, more rust colored than yellow.
Shaking off these dark thoughts I reach for the Tao Te Ching on my nightstand and feel my breathing slow. Opening the book, I allow the words to soothe my conflicted mind. Allowing it to open and land where it will…
Mastering others is strength; mastering yourself is true power.
I nod, staring at building tops out the window knowing hundreds of people fill each building story with their own individual stories.
I flip a few more pages.
A man with outward courage dares to die; a man with inner courage dares to live.
I’ve read this one before and thought about it many times. People, I’ve noticed, myself included, are more often afraid of living than of dying.
And lastly…
Give evil nothing to oppose and it will disappear by itself.
I bounce off the bed. Sometimes a little is all I need.
My thick wavy red hair and green eyes reflect in the window. Like the yin and yang, my birthname is Reuben yet in dreams it’s Claremone. I know that doesn’t make sense. Nothing makes much sense. The question—Who am I?—tears at me. I need answers, not dreams, not voices, but answers.
Let me start with the little I know. A few months back, my parents, Robert and Jan, were killed in a car accident.
We were driving home after a hike at Blue Falls State Park, it was daytime, and no animal jumped in front of us. It wasn’t even raining, but the car skidded off the road and hit a tree, killing them instantly.
I remember seeing the steering wheel turn as if on its own. My father fought it. “I can’t stop it… Jan. Jan. Jan!” he shouted, glancing my mother’s way. His round, intelligent eyes filled with worry while my mother’s small hands dug into the dashboard.
“Robert, no. Not this way!” she said in a meek, panicked voice.
From the dense forest, shadows closed in around the car. Powerless, I sat in the rear like an idiot, doing nothing. Could I have helped? Maybe.
Parts of the memory don’t make sense though I’ve run through it a hundred times. Hands were on me then I woke at the hospital. My psychiatrist, Dr. Greenblatt, said those were the hands of the paramedics. But they couldn’t be. Something protected me when that tree hit that car, someone or something. If not, I would have been crushed, too.
I wipe my nose, grabbing my parent’s picture from the nightstand. We’d had a picnic in the backyard the day the picture was taken. Our Black Lab, Rufus, ate half the hot dogs off the table.
Chills tickle my body and I set their picture down. My hands grow cold. Though high summer, I pull the covers over my legs.
Skyscrapers poke cloud’s bellies above cabs, noise, and decay. All the kooks and crazies are down there, maybe some answers, too.
There’s a burning in me to find answers and learn what happened. With cells on fire, I sure wasn’t going to find them in our suburban development where all houses and lawns look alike.
Today I turned eighteen, yay, and know there’s something I can’t quite put my finger on about this world. The questions burn in my chest, linger behind my eyes and thoughts, something deep, buried, far away. Like a memory I can’t quite recall.
So now I live in the craziest place in the world, where my red hair and green eyes go unnoticed. With so many weird styles, hair colors, tribal tattoos, and piercings, people just doing their thing, living some meaning they’ve found for themselves.
I try to be a good person. My parents taught me that.
I work at a small food market a few blocks over on Vexington, though today’s my day off.
So, pizza day and a stop at Caesar’s, my one friend in town.
I head outside with blue jeans, black t-shirt, and a ball cap. After all, I do have sensitive skin and burn easily.
*
With a hot sun overhead, hungry for pizza yet even hungrier for answers, I stop at Other Worlds three blocks over—the mystical shop where Caesar works. That’s where we met. The bells bounce and chime as the door latches behind me.
“The dream’s getting worse…” I say, leaning against it.
“Well, come in, let’s pull some cards on you.”
This is a safe space for seekers. And Caesar, being a seeker himself, is never worried about taboo subjects, or needing to be some stereotypical guy.
The lights are dim with smiling buddhas and crystals on store shelves with bookcases lining the wall. A waterfall trickles.
The incense burns my nose like chemicals as I walk up. Standing behind the glass counter a few inches taller than me he sports a black goatee with black hair and dark skin. “I’m gonna go crazy soon or take those pills Dr. G. gave me.”
“You’re not taking those nasty pills that hack prescribed.”
He goes into a spokesman-like voice. “They help with delusional tendencies, yet side effects may include loss of bladder control, stinky armpits, madness, uncontrollable rage, rashes, flatulence, and death. Order now!” He returns to his regular Big City accent. “Sounds great, chief. Sign me up. The answer is always inside of us.”
“I don’t know, but it’s getting worse. Can’t tell what’s real anymore.”
“Well, I’m real…” He pokes me in the chest. “Ya see? Dreams can’t poke you.”
He bends. “Let me get a special deck Nan Nan keeps down here.” Nan Nan is his grandmother he runs the store with.
“Thanks.”
“Nan Nan uses these for troubled souls such as yourself.” He spreads out the old Tarot deck with images of animals, dragons, kings, and treasures. Many cards are curled at their corners.
“Pick three.”
I choose slowly, overlooking the deck. A few protrude out, almost hitting me in the belly. I pull three and hold them up so he can’t see.
“Uh, I’m not a mind reader, dude. This isn’t poker. You have to lay them down.”
I nod placing them on top of the spread cards.
“An upside-down king, a flaming Phoenix, and dueling Dragons.”
“Well, what do they mean?”
“How should I know?” He grabs a book and flips to a chart that coincides with the numbers on the lower left hand of each card then flips to the right page for the upside-down king.
Caesar reads, “ ‘The cards will come to you as either an ally or challenger. When upside down, it’s a challenger. This one says events are turning your life upside down; you may be feeling dizzy and confused. You may feel like life is unfair right now. Do whatever is necessary to bring your life back into balance. You will be grateful when balance is restored and the rollercoaster has ended.’ ”
I admit that feels close to home. I pick up the next card, the flaming red Phoenix and ask him to read it.
Flipping pages, Caesar read
s, “ ‘The Phoenix appears as your ally to celebrate your journey and ensure your ultimate success. This is true even if it appears you’ve just passed through a metaphorical experience or death, or are currently enduring a perception of failure in your life. Death and rebirth are related in the realm of the Phoenix. Whatever you do now, a rebirth is imminent.’ ”
I’m reminded of the recent death of my parents and feel a stabbing pain in my chest. Some rebirth, being all alone.
“What about this last card? It says the Dragon’s Duel.”
“Hmmmm… Let me see.” Caesar finds the page and reads, “ ‘The Dueling Dragons take place at the proverbial fork in the road. It is both ally and challenger, representing the tension of opposites. Even though the truth is that we live in unity, we experience the duality of faith and doubt, right and wrong, love and fear. If you’re torn between two dragons, the one you choose to feed will be the one that wins.’ ”
“So, what does all this mean?”
He closes his eyes and is silent for a moment before murmuring, “That you will bring me a slice of pizza from Sal’s.” His eyes pop open. “I don’t know, man. Nan Nan’s not here.” She’s usually at church on Sundays with rosary beads, kneeling in prayer.
His eyes close again. “A storm is coming.” His voice deepens and he places his hands on the cards. “The gift of seeing is without eyes. People walk around and don’t see nothin’.”
I glance out the window. “It’s sunny and warm.” I shrug. “Maybe some rain.” I look back at him.
“See with your essence, not your mind.” Caesar slams his hand down on the counter. “Listen!” he says, raising his voice. “A storm is coming to claim you. You must not let it. Others see us as we are. I. See. You.” He then stops, opening his eyes again. “You’re still here. Going to Sal’s or what? You know I can’t leave.”
“Come on, are you messing with me?”
“What do you mean? Are you buying incense or need a book?” he asks, shaking his head.
“No, I’m good. But do I owe you anything for the reading?”
He stares down at the Tarot cards. “Wow, I totally forgot we did that. Hmm. Nah, all good.”