Benedict

by Jackson Bennett

  The pain lasted only a moment and then faded. It had been this way with the helmet for as long as memory served, and that was a long time.

  ***

  His first memories were of a time millennia ago when men had lived in harmony with the creatures and spirits of the land, who had called themselves “Volin.”

  Then had risen the Volish, “The Dark Lords”, created by the Volin by accident whilst trying to gift men eternal life.

  Their armies swept across the lands, destroying everything, ensnaring the dragons and turning one of the moons of Volar red with their magic.

  The Volin, although against violence, had been forced to raise an army of their own to face the Volish threat.

  The war with the Volish had been raging for some fifty years and as the death toll on both sides escalated, it was reaching a conclusion for good or ill.

  Benedict was a general in the armies of the Volin and had served with distinction and honour for over twenty years.

  The Volin had been working on a new weapon, in the form of liquid armour, embedded with magic that was so powerful it blended the body of the wearer with itself.

  Benedict volunteered for the honour, for he knew that the situation was almost beyond redemption and this could be their only chance.

  He had stepped into the pool of liquid that had been formed from the core metals of the planet, and as the armour activated it began to climb his legs entering this bloodstream and merging with his bones and organs. The pain had been almost unbearable.

  Then he had placed on the helm, by touching the Silver Star that had appeared on his forehead, which caused such pain that it had driven him to his knees.

  As the pain cleared, images began to appear in his mind, these were of battles, climate changes and his own death.

  This did not cause him concern for he had seen events that were beyond his death that had warmed his heart, a trait that had not been a design of the armour.

  The armour then began to glow as if from an internal light which was blinding in its intensity to all those that were watching nearby.

  The armour, which had been plain in adornment, began to show signs of decoration, gold scenes that swirled under the gaze of man and those that knew what they were looking at knew they were scenes of events to come.

  Benedict then spoke in a voice unlike his own. “I must go, give me command of the armies for there is but one chance to win this war and that is now,”

  With their blessing he left the room and strode to battle.

  The battle had been bloody and had cost many lives, but they had been victorious.

  Benedict knew that this was not the end, for he could see many things. With the defeat of the Volish armies and the turning of the moon red, the dragons had been driven mad. So he instructed the Volin to create stasis devices that would suspend life within their sphere of influence and shield the people within from the devastation that was to come.

  This they did and when the time came they were activated and the people within had been protected and the Volin had sought refuge in their mountains.

  The dragons had rampaged, destroying the land and turning upon their remaining enslavers. When the smoke had cleared the Volin had emerged and had managed to imprison the few dragons that remained, including their Queen, each in a separate underground tomb.

  When the domes had been lowered the world had been as it was now scarred and harsh and the Volin that remained had withdrawn from the world with despair in their hearts at what they had caused.

  The people in the domes had been in such awe of the Volin, for saving them that they revered them as gods calling themselves Voldinar “Children of God.”

  ***

  He rose to his feet again.

  He knew what events were coming and what needed to be done, his memories would see to that, but unlike all the times before he could not see the time and manner of his death.

  Could this mean the end? He did not know.

  On the underside of his each forearm, was the golden outline of a forward curving short sword, patterned on the armour. With a flick of his wrists two swords appeared of shining silver in his hands and where the engravings once were was left blank.

  To fight, that was his purpose, to fight and to protect.

  He turned to face his home. He had lived here all his life, oh there were memories of other places but this was home.

  He was no longer Richard he was Benedict, protector of the Voldinar.

  Benedict knelt and picked up Richards father and carried him out into the open ground where they had been battling the shadow. He built a pyre from wood and placed the limp figure on top. Then he set fire to it. The wood caught quickly, for it was bone dry and within seconds the entire pyre was ablaze.

  He stood there watching the flames flick around the corpse at its heart and after a while behind him, he heard Dorina and Mark regain consciousness.

  Mark and Dorina approached Benedict and stood next to him.

  “Where’s Richard,” asked Mark concern touching his voice.

  Benedict raised his hand and pointed to the figure barely visible in the intense flames.

  “No,” cried Mark as he threw himself at the flames.

  Benedict seized him by the shoulder in a vice like grip, and Mark fell to his knees with his head in his hands.

  For some time he knelt there moaning softly to himself.

  The fire raged on as the pyre began to collapse in on itself, the body inside disappearing.

  Mark rose; staring at the fire, then spoke without turning “What do we do now?”

  “You raise an army to free your people,” Benedict replied.

  “How do we do that then?” asked Dorina, sarcasm lacing her voice.

  Five shadows appeared around Benedict so close that he had no time to react, they were upon him like wild lions on a gazelle. They swarmed all over him bearing him to the ground, growls emanating from the pack

  Mark began to step forward to aid Benedict but before he could a bright light seemed to coalesce amongst the shadows atop him. Then with a complete lack of sound the creatures were hurled from the prone Benedict.

  Then came the sound, deafening in its intensity and as it passed the creatures it tore them to shreds, severing limbs. Life had been torn from them so quickly that they didn’t have time to scream.

  Benedict rose to his feet, turned and walked back to the cave; he knew he would have to leave here now, that attack had taken a lot from the armour and himself.

  Mark and Dorina followed after a moment and entered the dark cave.

  Benedict was knelling over a chest of brass. When they entered he rose and in his hands he held two objects.

  “This one,” he raised his right hand “looks like a large crystal egg. It is in fact a device for transporting. You say the name of the place you want to go out loud or imagine it inside your mind and then turn the top half clockwise. If you turn it counter clockwise then it will take you where you last were - no matter what you think or say.” He handed the device to Dorina.

  “This device,” he raised his left hand, which held a silver crown with a V in the front. At the bottom of which was an amethyst stone the size of an average man’s thumb nail “Will make you virtually invisible. You place it on your head with the amethyst on your brow pointing down, then concentrating on your surroundings you will blend with them. You must remain calm when using this device, as it will change the colour and texture of your skin. When you do so it will work correctly but if you become agitated it will leave you exposed.” He handed this device to Mark, and then he removed another egg from the chest and also handed it to Mark.

  “Where should we start our search?” Dorina said, examining the device now in her hand.

  “Try the hills to the east as that’s wh
ere most people have been driven by the invaders. There you will also find the main part of the army, for I sent them there in secret against the coming of this day.” He raised his hands to ward off questions from Mark and Dorina “When you find them and any others that you can. I will come to you there, so wait for me. Do not leave without me whatever happens for it will spell doom for our people. I will be heading back to the city as there are things there that we will need. Do not stay long as they will be back soon as this is where they believe me to be and they want me dead at all costs, as you can see.” He said gesturing around the outside of the cave.

  Mark returned to the pyre and bowing his head silently vowed to revenge his brother. Then with the crystal egg in his hands he rotated it clockwise and vanished with a flash of white light. Dorina stared at the cave, then following Mark she too vanished.

  After they had left Benedict touched a stone in the wall of the cave then disappeared in a flash of white light. Moments later the walls of the cave began to melt flowing over the contents of the cave destroying everything there.

  ***

  The shadow cursed, for it had arrived just as the cave disappeared, unable to salvage anything within.

  Its gaze covered the remains of its people and their servants then it blended into the shadows.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The Games Begin

  Richard all in black sat on the cliff atop an extinct volcano, one of many that were spread throughout the islands that were home to his people, the Voldinar, and pondered the events of the last few days.

  Even now it all seemed so unreal.

  Only two weeks before everything had seemed so normal there had been no sign of the events that were to change his life.

  He felt that he was still in full control of his actions but at the same time it was as if another mind was in control. For he would do things that he didn’t know he could do or he would do things before he knew he had done them.

  There was a constant sense of watching at the back of his head, which would come to life if there was danger like a sixth sense. This had been the case when the shadows had attacked at the cave.

  It was taking some getting used to, for he found that he was thinking of himself as Benedict and as Richard as the third party.

  This wasn’t helped by the amount of knowledge that was suddenly in his head. He knew everything about the armour from how it was made to how it worked its magic’s and to how much damage it could sustain. He also knew the entire history of his people and it was a surprising history at that.

  Despite all this knowledge the only memories that had surfaced in any detail were the memories of the original Benedict. This had left Richard feeling low, for he was disappointed that none of the memories of his father had surfaced. Oh he knew what deeds he had carried out, and of these he was proud, but none of the personal memories that would have given him an insight into the man that was his father, for he had only known him from the point of view of a child that saw everything his father did as a heroic god.

  Now he was an adult, he had a different view of life, more pragmatic, which he wondered if his father had had and how he had felt at abandoning his family.

  The only comfort he could garner was that his father had not died a needless death and had accomplished many good things in his life. At the end he had not died alone but in the arms of his son. It hurt him that Mark had not seen him and that he now thought that Richard was dead, but such had been his promise.

  Now the responsibility that his father had shouldered all these years was now his to shoulder, which wasn’t quite the family business he had imagined he would have followed his father into.

  The island was ancient, for it had been extinct longer than man had lived on this land and had been partly eroded by the constant and unstoppable tidal flows of the sea. What remained above sea level was shaped like the crescent moon just before it completely waned for only one third of the rim of the volcano remained and even that showed signs of the unstoppable erosion.

  The bay below where Richard sat, which was formed by the eroded bowl of the volcano, was clear and green and where the sun was reflected the bottom could be seen only some ten feet below the surface. The bay supported a vast and diverse population of life from corals to crabs, fish to sharks the latter of which could be seen just below the surface prowling the coral looking for an easy target. The fish were natural inhabitants as were the corals, but the crabs and sharks had been created centuries before when the first men had learned to wield magic. Up to that point life had been diverse then man had set about changing it to suit his view of life.

  Below the water, beyond the reach of the ravenous sharks, were the chambers that housed the peoples he had come to see. For this was “sanctuary,” and the people within were the refugees from Fire Mountain.

  Richard stood and placed a hand on the star on his forehead, the pain as the fluid metal flowed shot through him, so bad that it almost drove him from his feet. As the pain ceased Benedict looked out upon the sea. This was his home; he was part of the land. It hadn’t been until he had donned the armour that he had realised how arrogant and self-obsessed his people had been for no one had the right to change what was.

  Benedict turned around towards the open sea and looked down from his vantage point at the rocks below. It was a fair way down and there was no path to take. It would mean a long arduous climb. He didn’t want to teleport too often as it would allow the enemy to pinpoint his position and if they did it here then it would endanger more than just himself. So he started to climb down as nimble and surefooted as a mountain goat. When he reached the bottom he turned to his right and started to walk across the jagged rocks towards a fissure in the rock wall, which had been hidden from any vantage point save this one.

  The fissure was no bigger than Benedict and just wide enough for him to squeeze through if he turned sideways. He squeezed and edged his way through for about fifteen metres where upon the fissure opened into a small chamber. The chamber was dark as Benedict’s body was blocking the only light as he stood in the doorway.

  As he stood there his armour began to adjust to the dark, things that would have been invisible to men were crystal clear to him. The chamber was bare except for the stalagmites that hung from the ceiling. The only exit from the chamber appeared to be the way that Benedict had come in, but he knew that this wasn’t the case, for directly in front of him was an opening that gave access to carved stone stairs and from there the chambers beyond.

  He walked forward and straight through the wall, which he had known was a magical projection. The wall wobbled for a second as he passed through and then was still, hiding Benedict from the chamber he had left.

  He was brought up short then just before the stairs by two spears levelled at his throat. At the other end of the spears were two of the most bizarre creatures that Benedict had ever seen, but by the same token two of the most deadly.

  They towered some eight feet tall, were green and brown in colour and had the face of an ant, in fact it was wholly ant except that it only had four legs all of which extended from the thick armoured trunk. The metasoma, in which it housed its poison and stinger hung down the back counterbalancing the upper body as it stood erect. Its mouth consisted of pincers, which moved back and forth giving the distinctive clicking and clasping sound as it spoke, which was clearly audible now to Benedict as they challenged him.

  Benedict made two clicks with his tongue in the roof of his mouth and then a series of rasps from the back of his throat. The spears were withdrawn quicker than Benedict could have moved and passed to attention at the side of the suddenly rigid guards.

  Benedict was about to move forward when he felt the urge to lookup. There above him in the darkness of the ceiling unseen until now were four spiders the size of a young child all poised ready to spit their deadly venom at him if he had tried to pass unin
vited. He continued down the stairs some thirty in all, which were carved out of the rock.

  At the bottom of the stairs and still in the complete darkness, for the guards above had no need for light, he entered a passage way that ran for about twenty metres and sloped gently downwards until it met two large wooden doors bound in steel and studded with metal strips that crisscrossed the doors every six inches or so.

  Again in front of these doors stood two Ant men, but unlike the last these did not carry spears but instead had two swords with blades curved wickedly like hooks whose inside edge had been sharpened to a razors edge. The two men stood there unmoving with their swords crossed against their chitinous chests.

  Benedict walked up to the doors and pushed them open. They were hinged so that they would open inwards and were so well maintained that they swung open effortlessly. As they began to open he was greeted with a cacophony of sound made up of separate and distinctive noises yet none seamed to vie for dominance over any other. As the door opened wider the noise ceased as all those within turned to see who it was entering their domain and whether they were friend or foe.

  The chamber he entered was vast and at the centre was a lake of fresh water fed by the rainfall on the rocks above. The chamber was not entirely natural, for it had been a shallow lake with a low ceiling when it had been discovered, but the folk that were here now and those that had come before had extended and reinforced the natural cave to what was before him now. They had left many columns of rock to support the ceilings weight and the water above. So that the effect was that of a rough cathedral or church, but with more grandeur and solemnness so as to make the person viewing it feel humbled in its presence.

  Around him the noise began to encroach once more as the people here recognised Benedict.

  Benedict stood where he was as the vast doors behind him closed with a deep thud, that seemed to lay a challenge to anyone wanting to open them again, and as he stood there he took a note of the different peoples around him.