Darkness Awakens_Chronicles of Hunter

by Frank Perez

  Without the benefit of any outside light, he could only guess at the time. Days, he thought, it’s been at least a few days since I woke up here. In that time he’d understood the nature of the trap he was within. Each rune comprised millions of individual sigils linked by a small patch of power to the others surrounding it. Small convergences in the power lines pulsed with power as they both drew power from their neighbor and powered others in return. There must be a pattern to it. Although he’d failed to see it as yet. Given enough time, I’d be able to break through. Time, however is not something I have enough of. Ren and Hunter might be dead already for I know.

  He searched out one of the individual sigils and concentrated on it. Somewhere within the complex lines an answer awaited. He would find it.

  *~*

  Jonah leaned back on his chair, worried thoughts coursing through his mind. The instructions that had come through days earlier had weighed on him. The one and only pupil that he’d ever trained had gone rogue. No Watcher had ever done so that he could recall. Julian himself warned him to prepare him for what needed to be done if his former pupil tried to contact him.

  He’d called himself Michael. All Watchers left the past behind them when they ascended to the position. As acolytes they were taught to surrender all personal things, including the things that made them… them. But somehow this had made him something more rather than detracting from him. He was still a Watcher, but knowing history, even just a name had made him feel that he was in the presence of something bigger. But, he added to himself, was this a bad thing? His instincts told him no but the story that Julian had told of the cold, callous murder of the other Five spoke otherwise. Michael, he thought what are the chances that he would name himself after a character in the scroll he had been deciphering?

  The scrolls. For the past five years Jonah had been recording the tales woven throughout the twenty scrolls that had been unearthed on some forgotten planet. Tales of D’HarmaSan and her children. If only that was the case. He truly believed that a being by that name had once existed. That she had been a Goddess… well, that was a different matter.

  Although this version of the story went into great details. The author had apparently been told this story from none other than Luxfer. There must be a grain of truth to these stories though, so many of them follow a very similar path to the ones that our own ancestors wrote. The difference in these though was subtle, but major. There were no commandments, not one snippet of telling others how their lives must be lived. This version centered more on Luxfer and the other four brothers. Luxfer again. The name keeps popping up in the writings of all different species. This was the first writings though where he had come across mention of the other Four brothers.

  Fascinating story Jonah thought to himself again, strange though, the very description of Michael that the scrolls mentioned would suit his former pupil down to a tee. Another coincidence to ponder.

  *~*

  The door to Michael's cell opened. The light pouring in from outside the door blinding him for a moment. It was the first time anyone had visited him since he'd awoken. The figure of a watcher looked in at him. No, he thought not a Watcher. The mysterious Master was standing there watching him.

  He took a deep breath and looked straight at the Master. Straining every sense in his body to get an insight of who this was. Nothing. The damn runes are preventing me from getting anything from him. The figure took a step closer within the room. His face buried deep within the cowl of his hood, observing him. Obviously the runes only work one way.

  "Give him some bread and water," the master said turning to the watcher behind him, "I want him alive... for now." He turned back towards Michael, studying him once more, "still completely useless and blank. I thought he had more in him than this."

  The watcher bowed his head as his Master strode off down the hall, "Yes Master. Bread and water."

  The Master's voice echoed off the walls as he walked away from the cell, "and take care of Michael's old mentor. Make it look like he had an accident of some sort. Let's not take any unnecessary chances."

  They're going to kill Jonah just because he knows I'm here? Who is this guy? The door to his cell was pulled shut. The watcher turned to Michael as it was about to close, "I'll be back with your... meal soon. Enjoy it. You won't be getting too many of them."

  Once the door closed Michael returned his focus back on the sigils before him, looking for the elusive pattern that he knew would be there and waited for his meal.

  *~*

  Hours passed before the cell door was opened once more. A robed figure standing at the door holding a tray with a small loaf of bread and a tin cup of water. Well, I assume it is water. Michael thought to himself. He wasn't worried over the minimal food, he'd gone for far longer periods without it as an acolyte. Fasting was a way of life and a practice easy to get back into. Like riding a bike as they say on Earth. Never forget how.

  The robed figure took a step into the cell and lifted his head. The watcher stood just outside the door ready for anything. Michael took a look at the robed figure holding the tray. It's Jonah!

  With a small wink Jonah placed the tray on the floor, just outside the rune. He lifted the bread and tossed it over the outer layers, ensuring that the runes remained untouched and in place. The watcher shoved his foot into Jonah's back, "Leave the water outside the runes." he smiled and looked at Michael, "I may be nice and give him some later. For now, he can dream about it and stare at it."

  Jonah bowed his head and placed the tin cup on the floor. He picked up the tray and walked back out of the cell. The Watcher laughed as he closed the door, "enjoy your bread."

  Michael sat back down on the floor ignoring the jibes of the Watcher. Somehow Jonah had gotten himself into a position where he had delivered the bread to Michael. And then he had winked at him before tossing the loaf through the air. Michael sat and pondered, ensuring that his captor was not watching him. He placed the loaf of bread in his lap and ignored it. He closed his eyes not wanting his captor to see him looking at the cup of water. Definitely don't want you seeing that Jonah put the tin cup just a smidgen over the outer rune. He took a deep breath. I hope it's enough of a cover in the power network to let me break through.

  *~*

  Jonah raised his head and peered over the pulpit. The two Watchers were still searching through the catacombs, for him. He had heard them as they first approached the main chambers even though they had tried to remain silent. The invisible wards that he'd placed around the chambers alerted him to anyone waiting for him. This time, they had saved his life.

  The nature of the works that he had spent his life translating meant that he'd added a few little personal spaces within the catacombs over the decades. Quiet and secretive places that allowed him to work on what he considered some very dangerous pieces of writing that were definitely not meant for the masses.

  No one else knew about the existence of these. Not even his closest associates. Small, almost invisible runes were drawn around various parts of these places. Different runes of power that he'd as yet not told anyone about. Lucky that I did, he thought to himself. He held a book to his chest. It was filled with his thoughts on the stories that he had deciphered over the years. Stories that would get him killed if not worse. Too many coincidences in far too many writings from way too many sources. Over the many years that he'd been doing this, he had come across the same story time and again.

  Subtle differences in each where the author had tried to make sense of things from their own limited view but an underlying thread that remained constant. A Goddess and her four warriors. A mighty battle. Powerful weapons. Some called it a Flaming Sword, others the Burning Sword and yet others The Power Sword. Regardless of the differences in the stories though, each held that there was some kind of sword... and each had been wielded by the one warrior, Michael or Mikel, Mychael...

  If even a tiny portion of these are correct, Michael had been defeated and fell, along with his br
other warriors. Their enemy had taken their weapons. Each of them useless according to the stories as they were attuned to the frequency and power of each warrior.

  Jonah sat back waiting for the two Watchers to finish their search and move on, What if it's true? He thought again for what seemed the millionth time, and I've got a possible clue to the location of these weapons in my hands? The ethical dilemma weighed on him. What was the choice for the greater good? That an innocent is killed for this? Or that an evil one is allowed free? What facts do I actually know?

  He sighed. He had zero facts. Everything that he understood at this point was second hand. Some things from Michael other things from Julian. Put it all aside then and go with your own instincts, he thought. The answer was simple if he went down this path, Michael. The Watchers themselves had given him the method.

  *~*

  Things moved swiftly after Jonah had decided. While meticulous and circumspect at most times, everyone knew that once Jonah had reached a decision, things happened quickly.

  It was a lot easier than even he had expected. The secrecy that the ones who were hunting him were using, had actually played into his hands. No one questioned him as he approached the kitchen. No one saw him silently slip away into one of the storage areas waiting for the Watcher that would appear at any moment. A golden rule my friends when you're on the hunt for someone don't discuss what you need to do next in detail! He thought back a moment, bread and water is what they would take to Michael. It was his only option, dangerous as it was. He would remove the Watcher tasked with doing this chore and replace him. He rubbed his fingers on the rune-stone in his hands. Small and round, it would give him one shot at overcoming the Watcher. If he failed, he'd be dead. At least the kitchen is deserted everyone is off at muster.

  The Watcher moved into Jonah's field of vision, reaching for a small loaf of bread. He placed into onto a small tray and grabbed the tin cup. Head bent over the sink, he didn't feel Jonah unleash the power of the stone from behind him. A purple mist enveloped the Watcher, and he keeled over, incapacitated. Jonah quickly moved over to him and turned him on his back. Still breathing. If his studies were accurate, the Watcher would be out for the count for at least a day. No one would be the wiser until they either found him or went looking. He shook head, no turning back now. The path is chosen. He picked up the Watcher by the ankles and dragged him into an out of the way cavern. Way too old to try to be carrying him, that's for sure, and I only need a little of time to get to Michael.

  *~*

  Michael eased himself back into his center. Enough time had now passed that he was certain that no one was watching.

  He looked at the small loaf of bread in his hands. The small corner of a notebook jutted from within. Something that Jonah wanted him to have. Ripping apart the bread, he pulled the small notebook out of its hiding spot. Once I'm clear, I can read what Jonah put here.

  He sent his awareness back into the rune at his feet. As he had hoped, the power was still thrumming through the majority of the structure. Only one small part had a tiny blight on it, the sigils directly beneath the cup. He looked closer. No longer were these groups of sigils feeding back into the rest. They were drawing in the power and it had begun to pool.

  Michael smiled. Enough of a gap that he could easily call forth his own power and fuse it with the cup. Transportation beyond the room would be a simple matter. He sat back once more and considered. Jonah. The Wink. The cup. Something had obviously made Jonah reconsider his position. Enough so that he'd been willing to put his own life on the line to help Michael. At the very least I need to warn him of what I overheard. Make him leave and go underground somehow. He took a deep breath and readied himself, no use wasting time. Now or never.

  With that final thought, Michael poured as much of himself towards the waiting power within the cup. Nothing stopped him as he felt his powers returning to his essence. Smiling, he willed himself out of the cell. He looked back as he dissipated, straight into the eyes of a shadow of himself. With any luck they wouldn't discover the ruse for a while.

  Chapter 7

  Hunter opened his eyes dropping the padre’s hands. He could feel the pressure of Ren’s hand on his shoulder. He was certain that he’d been sitting in the chair opposite Toby for hours, if not days. Visions of D’HarmaSan and the story he’d just witnessed flowing through his mind. He turned his head, surprised that he wasn’t stiffer, and looked at Ren smiling.

  Ren caught Hunter’s smile and returned one of her own, “No luck I take it or was the message that simple?”

  Hunter’s looked back at Ren, a probing look on his face. “What makes you say that?”

  “Well, the fact that you closed your eyes for about three seconds makes me think that nothing of any earth-shattering importance happened. What else would I think? Thanks for going along with the padre, Hunter. I think he might finally be moving into senility.”

  Hunter turned his body until he was facing Ren, “Three seconds?”

  “Maybe five. I wouldn’t go past half a minute though. That would be generous.”

  Less than a minute? Was that even possible? I lived through the creation and expansion of an entire Universe? Lived life through the eyes of a Goddess, saw the capture of an entire species, centuries passed! Was that even possible? Hunter looked up at Ren, realizing that the look on his face would have her worried. “Listen Ren. There’s a lot to discuss. But”, he looked over at the now sleeping form of Toby, “we need a bit of breathing room and space. Let’s get out of here and let the old man sleep for a while. I can catch you up on things over some coffee.”

  Ren looked over at Hunter, watching his expression. Something had happened in the short time that he’d had his eyes closed, but for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what. “Let’s go down the street. There’s a coffee shop a block up. We can talk there.”

  “Sounds good. I’ve got a lot to tell you.”

  Ren leaned back on the plastic chair. The café turned out to be one of the newer upmarket places catering to those with more money than sense. An eight dollar coffee in a mug. No wonder this world is going to Hell in a hand-basket, she thought.

  She’d sat at the table while Hunter had relayed what he’d gone through with the padre. All that in like, 5 seconds? Had both of her best-selling authors gone into some kind of mini mass-delusion? She took another pull of her coffee and placed the cup down on the table, “Hunter. That story is… incredible, I guess. Definitely something to think about publishing. But it’s now been almost 12 hours since Bonnie disappeared and we’re no closer to knowing anything useful about it.” She tried to gauge the expression on Hunter’s face but couldn’t nail it down, “I think maybe it’s time we went to the authorities. I know none of it makes sense but… I need to do something more than what we’re doing now.”

  Hunter’s reply surprised her a little but at the same time made her glad, “Couldn’t agree more Ren. All this stuff that’s happened is just making us go on a tangent. I was thinking that we finish this coffee and go back to your apartment. We left in such a rush on Michael’s trail that we didn’t even stop to take a breath, to see if the kidnapper left anything behind.” He looked up at Ren’s face, gratitude clearly etched on her features and added “Stuff the coffee. Let’s go now.”

  Ren’s answering smile was all he needed. In moments, they had paid the outrageous bill for their special blend coffee and headed out the door towards Hunter’s car.

  Ren leaned back into the plush seat in Hunter’s Mercedes. Say what you want about him, the man’s got nice taste in cars. She thought to herself as she closed her eyes. Humans are truly weird. Less than twelve hours ago I saw my daughter disappear in my arms and now we’re heading back to look for clues about her kidnapper, like someone stole in through the window and drove her away in their mini-van. Not to mention that two guys playing dress up appeared from nowhere and have an all-out brawl. Throwing lightning from their hands at each other no less. She sighed, but what e
lse can I do? Something needs to be done to get Bonnie back and let’s face it, as much as I love the old man, the padre is as crazy as two cats in a hessian bag. She opened her eyes slightly and looked over at Hunter, and the only person who’s been the most clear-headed over this turned out to be you Hunter. A brilliant writer, no doubt. But definitely not my first choice in this matter. Border-line alcoholic that keeps everyone at arms-length. Once again she wondered at Hunter’s history.

  He’d always tried to appear normal when he caught up with Ren, but let’s face it, I’ve lived through this before Hunter, remembering her husband. I sat by and watched him drink himself to death. No matter what I tried, it was never enough.

  Depression and alcohol took him down a dark, lonely path and we were dragged along with him. My love and having a beautiful daughter were clearly no match. The darkness won out. Maybe that’s just the man I attract. She thought as she watched Hunter, but no! There’s something else inside you. I’ve felt it since we first met! Thinking back again on the things that had occurred over the past 12 hours, she added to herself, and you’ve definitely gone beyond what I expected.

  Hunter kept quiet as he drove them back to Ren’s apartment.

  He had felt Ren’s eyes on him as he drove, even though she was obviously trying to not let him see. He smiled and let her believe that. Other things were going through his mind. How could he explain to her that the story felt to him like one of his own nightmares and dreams? He’d lived through it, just like the others. Not just witnessed it in his mind. D’HarmaSan, Michael, the Brethren… all of it! It’s either real or I’m in somebody else’s dream! Perhaps I have more in common with the padre than I thought. Get Ren to sign me up. Three meals a day and daytime television. He paused, Nope. Without the alcohol the dreams would quickly return. Funny though, in the past 12 hours this is the first time that a drink has crossed my mind and, the weirdest things have happened. He quickly glanced over at the now sleeping Ren, What would you think about me Ren, if I told you about the colors?