“There were people in line behind me,” Silas said.
The Gatekeeper shook his head. “None of the Humans behind you ever stepped foot into Marenon. You were the last to come through the Hall, and since then, the phantoms have stopped gathering. I suppose when you died, they considered you all the help Marenon needed from the Humans.”
“What about the Erellen Prophecy about me?” Silas asked. “When did that come into play?”
“It’s not truly an Erellen prophecy,” Silandrin said. “It was my own prophecy.” He took another sip of his tea, gathering his thoughts. “One night after trying to figure out how to fix the problem I had caused, I fell asleep and had a dream. It was a very vivid dream, not like a normal one. These dreams had come to me in the past, and had given me glimpses of what was to come, but this one seemed much graver. This dream told of a coming Deliverer. The dream showed me that a baby with Erellen and Human blood would be born in Marenon. That baby was born seventeen years ago. And here you are. The dream said you would deliver Marenon. So, naturally, when Garland came to me asking for assistance to get you safely to Earth so he could protect you, I wanted to help. I had to use Garland's life to ensure that the Blue Gate remained sealed. I used the magic of the blue medallion, and fused his life with it. It was as if he were holding the key to the gate, a gate that could only be opened if he died. My magic was weakening too drastically to have the power to seal it by myself. When he died, Judoc saw him go through the Hall of Wandering Souls. He must have told Anithistor or Maroke of the event, letting them know that you were vulnerable. That's why they got to you two days later.”
“But what does the prophecy mean?” Silas asked. “No one seems to know who I’m supposed to deliver.”
“I know what it means,” Silandrin said. “I never told the whole prophecy to anyone. In fact, this is the first time it has come from my lips. You are the Deliverer, because you are going to destroy the three gates using the power of the medallions.”
“That’s it?” Silas asked. “That’s what makes me the Meshulan?”
“No,” Silandrin said. “That’s not all. With the power of the medallions, you will take my place as the Watchman of Marenon. You will have the power that I once had, long ago. You will use that power to demolish the three gates, which will, in turn, destroy those medallions.”
“Why do I take your power? Why is your power failing you?” He knew his questions seemed overbearing, but he had to ask them. There were so many answers he needed.
Silandrin sighed. “A long time ago, I was meant to have power forever, but I have fallen. By bringing Humans in from Earth to help protect Marenon, I failed in my responsibilities. I was supposed to protect Marenon, not the Humans. My power has been slowly waning ever since. It must be passed on. And it will go to you, so you can finish what you were meant to do.”
“Destroy the gates,” Silas muttered to himself.
“That’s right,” Silandrin said. “But there’s something else.”
“What?”
“I am the Gatekeeper of the Green Gate and the Blue Gate, because I created them. Destroying those shouldn’t be too difficult for you, though I suspect you will meet some resistance. But you cannot destroy the Red Gate until you have become its Gatekeeper.”
Silas didn’t like where this was going. He waited for along moment for Silandrin to explain.
“There is only one way,” Silandrin said. “You must make it where Anithistor no longer exists in this world. That means you send him back to where he came from, or you destroy him. Either way that gives you the power to destroy the gate.”
He was afraid something like this would come up. He had faced Maroke, a silent assassin, and many other dangers Marenon had to offer, but now he had to face the master of evil, the only one he truly felt could not be defeated. Anithistor.
“But your prophecy says that I will do this, right?” Silas asked hopefully.
Silandrin smiled, but it was not a smile of happiness. It seemed to be full of regret, almost apologetic.
“The prophecy that I have told over the years, that I have led people to believe, is a slight fabrication of the truth. The truth is, the prophecy said you would face the Stühoc Gatekeeper. It never said you would defeat him. It said you were the only one with the power that could face him. The only one that could be the Deliverer.”
Silas couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Not only had Silandrin been responsible for ushering many Humans to their death, but he had also lied to generations of people about what would truly happen in the end.
Silas sat dumbstruck for a moment, then stood from his chair. He rubbed a hand through his thick blonde hair, not knowing what he should say next.
“I told the Erellens of the prophecy in a time when they needed hope. I had no idea that it would take thousands of years before it would actually happen.”
“So, for all I know, I could face Anithistor and be killed, giving him all the power?”
“Yes,” Silandrin said bluntly. “But you are still the only one who can face him. The only hope for Marenon.”
“What if I fail?”
“You can’t,” Silandrin said. “If you fail, Marenon will eventually be destroyed just like the previous world of the Stühocs. It will become a desolate wasteland, void of any life. All of Marenon will be like the lands of Mudavé. Then Anithistor will go through the Green Gate or Blue Gate and live in another world. You are the only hope for this one, and all the worlds that Anithistor could destroy in the future.”
“I can barely make a shield with magic, how am I supposed to take down Anithistor?”
“When my powers transfer to you, you will have what you need. It will be difficult to control at first. You must not face him until you have control over the magic.” He nodded to Inga. “She will be more of an asset to you than anyone you know. She will be able to help you know how to use your new abilities, and to control them.”
Silas looked at Inga, wondering if she would have the drive to do such a thing after hearing everything Silandrin had said tonight. She looked up at Silas and offered him a slight smile, assuring him she would be by his side no matter what.
“After your first task, you will need to get the rest of the medallions,” Silandrin continued. “When you have them, you must place the medallions in the pedestal in front of Marenon’s Map.”
“Why?” Silas asked.
“The pedestal is a great source of power when the medallions are placed in it, and was never truly intended to be used as a weapon,” Silandrin said. “It’s more than a simple gift to the Dunarians from the Erellens.”
Silas remembered the small table sitting below Jekyll Rock. Kaden had shown it to him only once during his three months of training and said that when all the medallions were found, it would be the best weapon against the Stühocs.
“Anyone with all of the medallions can control every natural aspect of Marenon,” Silas said.
“Which is exactly why you mustn’t let anyone use it,” Silandrin countered. “I left the pedestal with the Erellens for the use of the Meshulan only, but they turned it into a weapon against my wishes. It wasn’t always Marenon’s Map. It was a device meant for you, so you can gain the power you need to defeat Anithistor. I fear your Dunarian friends will want to use it as a weapon of war.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Inga asked.
“No one should have that much power,” Silandrin answered. “When you place all of the medallions into the slots, the powers of the Watchman will be transferred to you.”
“Then, I just destroy the medallions?” Silas asked.
“Destroying the three gates will destroy the three corresponding medallions,” Silandrin said. He held up a finger. “But remember, before you can destroy the Red Gate, Anithistor must be out of the picture completely. Either you send him back to where he came from, or you kill him. When the three gates and the corresponding medallions are destroyed, that will leave three other medallions in Marenon. I
think it would be best if you found a way to destroy those before they can be used against you.”
“Why are there six medallions and only three gates?” Silas asked.
“I created the other medallions to give to each people group in Marenon,” Silandrin answered. “It was a desperate time when I thought each group might need their own gate to escape through, but it never came to that. Only the three gates were created, but each group had a medallion of power.”
“Why destroy the extra medallions? Couldn’t they be used for good?”
“In my experience, it is best that we remove all possibility of creating any other gates,” Silandrin said. “In the wrong hands, those medallions could be used as a weapon against you someday.”
“But you’ve been wrong before,” Silas said.
Silandrin blinked at the bold statement, but humbly looked down to the table. “Yes. I have been wrong many times before. I can only hope that I am not wrong about anything else.” The old man seemed truly saddened by thoughts he would never reveal to Silas.
“The pedestal is enchanted,” Silandrin continued. “When you place the medallions in each slot, it will recognize you for who you are and the powers of the Watchman will be given to you.”
“You said I would do this after the first task?” Silas asked. “What is the first task?”
Silandrin looked down at the table for a long moment. His eyes then went to Inga and slowly back to Silas.
“Your first task is to kill me.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Alric and the others had barely made it to the slave quarters before the Nestorian and Stühoc soldiers reached them. The line of grappling guns that Ellis had set up did its job well, but it could only be used once. It gave the group of four enough time to reorganize themselves before the oncoming horde arrived. Each of them carried a weapon now, feeling less vulnerable than before, but it was a different story for most of the other slaves.
Alric had offered the orange-jeweled medallion to Nalani, but she had told him to hold on to it. He had been happy to reach out and grab the thing for her. He didn’t know what it was, but there was something about her that made him want to keep her safe. Now they were in the middle of a battle, and he could barely keep himself from being hacked to pieces.
Alric, Coffman, Nalani and Daewyn fought side-by-side with the slaves, pushing toward the western gate, but their lack of weapons worked against them. After an hour or more of fighting, the slaves pushed in a final attempt to fight the Stühocs back, and that’s when the sky went dark.
Alric had just cut through a group of five Stühocs when his attention was brought to the Pyramid. The pedestal that had once carried the Sphere had been moved into an opening at the top of the Pyramid and now Anithistor stood at the top, clutching the side of it. The pedestal was void of any Sphere and Alric thought that perhaps it was because all the souls now rested in the medallion somehow. The medallion was the pedestal’s source of power. What did Anithistor think he was doing?
The fighting came to a halt as a voice called out to them in each of their minds. It was Anithistor.
“It was foolish to rebel against me,” he said. Alric could see that the Stühoc leader kept his eyes closed but his mouth moved.
“Today, you will fail. The medallion is not the only power that can make this weapon come to life,” he said. With his words came a clap of roaring thunder as thousands of bolts of light shot from the pedestal and through the crowd of slaves. Alric jumped to the ground just before a bolt could hit him. Those that were hit, fell to the ground instantly and the bolts began to converge to the center. Finally, the center began to spin into a round ball until it moved back to the top of the pedestal. With another bright burst of light, the hundreds of bodies on the ground began to twitch, coming to life in a slow, rhythmic pattern. First, they began to breathe, then they began to move their limbs. Within minutes they were all standing again. Dread formed a pit in the bottom of Alric’s stomach as he realized that taking the medallion did not undo the power of the Sphere. Anithistor stood at the top of Pyramid, raised his arms high in the air, and called out his command for his new army.
“Soldiers of the Dead,” Anithistor said, “Destroy those who fight against us. Fight until you can fight no longer.”
Without hesitation, the new Soldiers of the Dead turned on what used to be their fellow fighting companions. Those with weapons began hacking away; those that had no weapons used their fingernails or their teeth. Anything that could draw blood.
*****
The first dead soldier to attack Coffman was Ellis. He had been struck fatally in the chest by one of the bolts. His soul was now stolen, and he was being used to quash the rebellion that he had organized. He swung his stolen sword at Coffman, narrowly missing him a couple of times. Coffman couldn’t bring himself to kill the one he had just been fighting next to.
“Stop it!” Coffman said. “You can’t do this! They’re using you!”
Coffman knew that Ellis either couldn’t hear him, or at that he didn’t care anymore. Ellis had only one mission: to destroy Coffman. Coffman ducked and swayed, trying to stay out of the path of Ellis’ fury, but the man was unrelenting. He knew what he had to do, but wasn’t sure he could bring himself to do it. He held up his own sword, deflecting a couple of blows.
“Please stop!” Coffman yelled once more. His cry was only answered with an evil scowl and a more vicious attack. Ellis was dead. His mind had been replaced by the hatred of Anithistor. Coffman knew that yelling at the man would produce nothing but more hatred and anger.
In his dead state, Ellis was not a very skilled fighter, just intense. Coffman easily disarmed him, but then he was fighting an unarmed man. No, he’s dead! Just take his body. As Ellis charged after him, weaponless, Coffman swallowed hard and closed his eyes, then swung the sword deep into Ellis’ chest. Almost as if he hadn’t felt the pain, Ellis kept trying to come after him, causing Coffman to pull the sword out and stab him again. The man was bleeding freely, but still continued his assault. Coffman went for the legs the next time, crippling Ellis. The man’s eyes still wanted nothing more than Coffman’s blood. With a scream of rage, Coffman stepped over to the crippled man, and stabbed his sword straight through the heart. Within moments, Ellis’ body refused to move. Coffman’s anger and desperation threatened to take over. How was Anithistor still able to do this? They had disarmed the Sphere hadn’t they? Had all of this been for nothing?
This had been the same story with most of the slaves. They didn’t want to fight their friends, but were forced to. Not only did the Sphere create new soldiers to join the Nestorians and the Stühocs, but it also cut down the numbers of the resistance significantly.
Coffman searched the crowd for his friends. He spotted Dink and Emma at a distance, fighting off several Soldiers of the Dead, and near them were Nalani and Daewyn. It was time for them to leave.
He charged through groups of mindless soldiers, Nestorians and Stühocs, to get to the others, hacking and slicing the entire way. When he finally reached Nalani, he grabbed her by the shoulders, looking her in the eyes.
“Use the whistle!” he nearly yelled. “This battle is lost, you’ve got to call the sarians.”
Nalani looked down at her chest as though she had completely forgotten about the device that Julian had made for her before she left him. She never thought she would need it, but now she was thankful Julian had insisted on her taking the gift.
She reached inside her shirt and pulled up the whistle on the end of the chain. The sound resonated in its low tone, causing too much attention to be drawn to their group. Dink, Emma, Daewyn and Coffman formed a semicircle around Nalani as she continued to call the sarians to her. They had been left alone for so many days; there was no telling if they would be near enough to hear her.
Wave after wave of enemies came after them. Dink cut some away with an ax he had found. Coffman used his sword and Emma drew back on a bow and arrow she had seized, picking off en
emies one at a time. This went on for several minutes as they waited for the giant birds. They knew if they didn’t make it out, they would be dead in moments, and the medallion would be handed right back to the enemy.
“Where’s Alric?” Nalani called out.
Coffman scanned the terrain for their friend, finding him among a crowd of Stühocs, completely surrounded.
Then he saw the shadow of three sarians as they soared in, clawing at nearby enemies before landing to take the riders away. Nalani ordered Dink, Emma and Daewyn to take a sarian. She mounted Fury, and Coffman got onto the other one.
“We’re going after Alric,” Nalani said pointing to Coffman and herself. “You’ve got to get out of here now!”
She turned to Dink and Emma. “Get to Jekyll Rock and warn the Dunarian Council what they’re up against. Tell them about the Sphere!”
“What if you don’t make it?” Daewyn called out.
“Tell your father what you’ve seen here,” Nalani said. “Let him know your people are next if he doesn’t act quickly.”
“I can’t promise my father will do anything,” Daewyn said.
“Then you do it!” Nalani yelled. “If the Erellens and Humans don’t work together, we’ll all be defeated!” With that she pulled up on Fury’s reigns and tore into the air. Coffman followed quickly behind as they flew past scores of fighters going directly for Alric. The sarians slammed into the group of Stühocs. Coffman attempted to pull Alric up onto his sarian, but was grabbed by the legs and shoved back to the ground. Nalani came in for another swoop, but the Stühocs were ready. Before she could pull the bird out of reach, a net was thrown over her and her mount, and the Stühocs began dragging them both to the ground. She tried to reach for her sword again, but the net was too tight for her arms to move. As she frantically tried to find a way to escape, she saw that Coffman was in the same predicament. Both of the sarians tried to claw their way out of the trap, but it was hopeless.
The Marenon Chronicles Collection Page 56