Semminex looked to his left and saw Grannik grabbing a guard by his neck and slamming him head-first on the floor. Freed prisoners stomped on the guard and used him as a launching pad to attack the Krunations behind him. Semminex looked ahead and saw a Krunation guard swinging a tazer at him. The Denarian ducked and fired a blast from his rifle that struck the guard in the stomach.
To Semminex’s right, the young girl continued opening one cell door after another. Denarians raced from their cells and wrapped their arms around any Krunation in range, pulling them down and stripping them of their weapons.
Denarians all around Semminex grabbed tazers and rifles and he pointed at Radifen. “Do you know where the caverns are?” he asked.
Radifen responded, “I’ll show you once we get out of…” He cut himself off as the prisoners heard the running and shouting of more Krunation guards.
Semminex motioned for all Denarians with rifles to join him in front of the group. “Everyone without a rifle, get behind us,” he instructed. He then aimed his rifle, prepared to fire. Grannik stood behind him, holding his rifle over Semminex’s head. Radifen, with only a tazer in his hand, stood to his left and motioned for everyone else to take a step back.
A group of 20 Krunation guards ran into view, each of them wielding their rifles.
“Fire!” Semminex yelled. All Denarians opened fire, cutting down their captors. Semminex stood in the middle of the melee, shooting with deadly accuracy as the unarmed Denarians cheered with delight.
The young girl and the older man continued freeing Denarians as Semminex watched the unarmed prisoners crawling on the floor toward the rifles dropped by the Krunations. Once they had them, they rolled out of the line of fire and created a significant advantage in numbers. In mere moments, the fight ended and the Denarians were once again victorious.
“Everyone against the wall,” Semminex commanded. “They can’t be the only ones left.” Everyone pressed their backs to the wall and followed him down the hall to the corner. Semminex reached the end of the wall and looked around the corner. He gulped as he saw another fleet of Krunation soldiers waiting for them at the end of the hall. Their rifles were at their sides and Semminex could see they were ready to aim and fire as soon as any Denarian was in range.
“Are there more?” Grannik asked in a low tone of voice. Semminex looked back and nodded.
“What do we do?” the young girl whispered.
Semminex took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling. “Anything is better than here.” He then ran around the corner and opened fire, keeping his eyes ahead and yelling with rage as he fired on the Krunation barricade.
As Semminex defiantly ran toward the guards who tried to cut him down with their own weapons, he heard the shouting of the Denarians behind him. Laser fire shot out all around him, striking down the guards.
“I like you already!” Radifen yelled as he and Grannik ran alongside Semminex, leading their fellow Denarians to freedom.
* * *
“What's he looking at?”
Matthew heard Nick’s voice as he and Kelly “The Kraken” whispered back and forth about him, but he tuned them out with his face three inches from his desk. It made no difference to Matthew who stared, who sneered. He was in the zone. Nothing beats the zone. Where the origins of his cult popular character came to life. So what if his methods struck snickers from classmates, especially the 6’5” classmates wearing the letterman’s jackets? They weren’t his audience.
Excelsior lovers. They made up Matthew’s audience. And to his relief, that audience was more than just him.
The only element Matthew struggled with was scribbled on a piece of paper he tore from his steno notebook. A notebook he kept with him at all times, the closest resemblance to schoolwork he had written in his notebook in weeks. The paper read: 1 Denarian Year = 100 Earth Years. Denarian Lifespan up to 300 Years = 30,000 Earth Years. Underneath that were the words, “Semminex’s Story 10,000 Earth years ago.”
Matthew considered how valuable Excelsior was for him as a means of escape as he ran his hand down the back of his head, picking a spitball out of his hair. He then scratched his arm and wished that he had the type of muscles he had drawn for Semminex. Sure, he had little to no body fat, which was always a surprise to him considering the amount of fast food he ate, but he looked nothing like the hero he drew, the type of hero who would never have to endure taunting and spitballs.
Once he finished writing about Semminex leading the charge through the prison doors, Matthew decided to focus on the artwork. It was nothing too complex, especially since he wasn't going to be putting this on his site. Just pencil today, no color required. He leaned forward at his desk and paid extra attention to Semminex's look. He made sure his long and wild hair looked just right. Matthew seemed to take an hour on the eyes. Although if it had really been an hour, the bell would have rung.
“Mr. Peters? Mr. Peters?!”
When Mrs. Burton spoke Matthew's name the second time, he looked up from his page. Why would she pick this moment to call on him? She always had a knack for interrupting him at the most important of times.
Unfortunately for both him and Excelsior, as much fun as revisiting this origin was, Matthew still had to contend with Mrs. Burton's U.S. History class, and she was never fond of her students not paying attention. Especially a student going out of his way to show that he was not paying attention, which Matthew had a tendency to do whenever his face was three inches from his desk.
Matthew sat back in his seat. “Yes, Ma'am?”
“Were you listening to what I was just saying?”
Matthew looked around the classroom, where he had somehow become the center of attention. All 23 of his fellow students sitting at their desks had their eyes focused on him. Even the eyes of the US Presidents on the classroom posters seemed to be looking directly at him, waiting for an answer. He took a deep breath and tried to collect himself. He reached under his sketch pad and looked at his textbook, open to a chapter on the Civil War.
He decided to take a shot. “About the slavery in the South?”
Mrs. Burton wouldn't let him off the hook. She never did. He would gladly endure another lecture after class about the importance of listening, but he was convinced it was more fun to watch him squirm.
“What about it?” she asked.
Matthew could have told her anything regarding slavery, but only on the planet Denab IV. After trying to come up with a suitable answer, he decided that this wasn't a battle of wills worth fighting. “I'm... not sure where you left off.”
Mrs. Burton nodded. “See me after class, Matthew. I'd like a word with you.”
Matthew's chin dropped against his chest. Once again, he had let the work on his comic get in the way of his studies.
While Mrs. Burton went on with the day's lessons, Matthew brooded. No matter how many times she would go out of her way to embarrass him in the classroom, something wouldn't allow the lessons to fully sink in. His comic always took precedence.
When the bell rang fifteen minutes later, Matthew walked up to Mrs. Burton's desk.
“Mr. Peters, how many times this week have I had to interrupt the daily lesson so I could pull your mind back into the classroom?”
Matthew knew the answer was four, but he couldn't bring himself to say it out loud. “I'm...”
“Not sure? You don't seem to be sure about a lot of things lately, and you especially don't seem to want to pay attention.”
He felt he had to respond to that accusation. “I'm doing all right though, right? The last test that was given, I got an 81 on it.”
She nodded. “Yes, you have been doing fairly well, Matthew. But this isn't about the tests; it's about being involved in the class, and that requires you to listen to what is being said. If it seems like I'm being hard on you, it's only because I know the potential that you have and getting an 81 on a test doesn't show that you're working to your fullest.”
Matthew tried to keep from tuni
ng Mrs. Burton out as she droned on and on about what it took to be a top student and how he couldn’t just coast through each class without applying himself.
Why couldn’t she be like his English teacher, Mrs. Webb? Not only did Mrs. Webb create a much more fun atmosphere for learning, but she also encouraged him to move into creative writing. When he would give her an update on Excelsior's adventures, she would motivate him to keep going with it. She would tell him that he had something there, and that he should...
“Matthew, am I losing you again?!” The raised voice was a hint that Mrs. Burton's patience with him was wearing thinner and thinner.
“I’m still here,” Matthew answered as he snapped back to attention.
“I know you’re here, but you’re not HERE,” she responded. “Now I know you’re better than this, Matthew. You’re a very gifted young man, but you only show those gifts when you really apply yourself. And I know some of the classes you take aren’t some of the most exciting in the world, especially for a boy your age.” She placed a hand on his shoulder, which Matthew could identify as her taking pity on him. “But just keep in mind that only by getting through these courses with the grades you can reach, that’s when you get to move on to do what you really love to do… whatever it may be.”
The words “whatever it may be” floated around in Matthew’s head as he forced out the words, “I’m… I’m sorry. I know I’ve been losing concentration, but I’ll try to do better in the future.” He knew she meant well, but Matthew also knew she wouldn’t understand what had occupied his time over the past several months. He may look like an underachieving scatterbrain, but he was the lord and master of his own universe. The fate of an entire planet rested in his hands. His creations captured the imagination of hundreds, hopefully thousands of readers.
“I look forward to seeing that,” she said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Matthew nodded and exited the classroom into the crowded hallway, one step closer to freedom.
* * *
“We knew you would come!”
The Denarians followed a voice through the caverns to which Semminex and Radifen had guided them. The further they walked, the darker it became. The clear sky had been a wonderful sight, and it was almost painful for the freed prisoners to hide from the fresh air and daylight.
They walked through the caverns until they came to a large area illuminated only by lit torches along the walls. From the shadows stepped the source of the bellowing voice, a voice that should have belonged to a much younger man. With a soft white beard that reached the bottom of his neck and eyes which had not seen the light for so long that his hugely dilated pupils made them look black, Acerus was known to the Denarians as simply the High Elder. Semminex recalled what his parents had told him about Acerus when he was a child. As the oldest of the last Chosen Ones, he was more respected and beloved than anyone else on the planet. As he stepped out of the shadows in his once white robe, the low torch light reflected off the golden lettering visible on both sleeves. Semminex recognized the lettering in Denarian hieroglyphics that read: “Ever Upward.”
As Acerus made his presence known, all of the Denarians quickly fell to one knee. He stepped closer to the men, women and children, with five others wearing matching robes walking behind him. Two men and three women, with the same bottomless dark eyes but showing varying degrees of age, were known by all as the Elders.
Acerus continued his praises. “You have fought proudly for your lives and for your honor as Denarians. And you have honored our savior Excelsior. In his absence, it is up to all of us to continue his vision and keep Denab IV the paradise he created.”
As Acerus cast his gaze over the freed Denarians with pride, another of the Elders, Quinterus, stepped forward. With his hair a matching silver and length similar to Radifen, his dark eyes allowed for a hint of light as he smiled. “Radifen!”
Radifen looked up and smiled back. “Father. It has been too long.”
“It is wonderful to see you again. We could sense you approaching and knew you had found us when the sword started to hum.”
Grannik glanced over to Radifen. “The sword?” he whispered.
Radifen nodded. “It must know of who led us to freedom.”
Semminex’s long hair fell down his face as he kept his head lowered. After listening to the conversation between Quinterus and his son, he looked up at the Elders and slowly stood. He could hear the gasps of the Denarians behind him. When Semminex spoke, his words held power that matched the Elders.
“My parents spoke of you when I was a child. They spoke of how they saw Excelsior with their own eyes, and how you have predicted his eventual return.”
Acerus beamed with pride. “Your parents were correct in what they have taught you. As you are all aware, Excelsior watched over this planet for many ages, before he arrived here to protect us and lead us to worldwide prosperity. As the last generation of families privileged to be contacted by Excelsior as he watched over us all...” He spread his arms out toward the Elders before continuing. “...we have collectively waited for this moment, when we would come face to face with the one worthy to bring him back to us.”
The Elder on the farthest right walked toward Semminex and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Semminex felt taken aback by the strength in Klierra's touch.
“Your parents are forever honored by us,” she said with a warm tone that forced tears into Semminex’s eyes. “By being the first to attempt escape from the grasp of the Krunations, Gorsirus and Cherella have lit the way for others to follow. They would be proud to see you here before us, a free man.”
Semminex looked to the ground again, too proud to let everyone around him, especially the Elders, see his tears. The Elder gave his shoulder another squeeze, which prompted Semminex to look into her dark eyes. There was something youthful about Klierra. She had short red hair that was only starting to lose its fire, a thin and athletic frame and a smile that granted Semminex a reassuring dose of confidence. As he looked into her eyes, Semminex started to regain his composure. The Elders had sacrificed so much to ensure the memory of Excelsior would never die, that he did not want to appear weak. He wanted to be as strong as they were in will, as strong as they once were physically.
Klierra pulled her hand away and stepped back as Acerus stepped forward to look into Semminex's eyes. The High Elder’s eyes narrowed as he focused on the young man's pale-blue eyes. He stood nose to nose with Semminex, the only sound coming from the flickering flames of the torches.
After a long hesitation, Acerus's eyes slowly began to widen. Semminex was the only Denarian close to enough to hear the Elder's low whisper. “I knew you were in there somewhere.”
Semminex looked down at his own chest in confusion; he had no idea what Acerus meant
The High Elder turned around and nodded to the other Elders. The other five smiled in calm rejoice, and Acerus turned back toward the men and women. “It is decided!” he declared before turning around and walking toward the darkness.
Semminex looked back at Grannik and Radifen, who exchanged knowing glances. “What is decided?” Semminex asked.
Radifen leaned forward and answered in a soft voice, “You'll be given the sword. The Elders believe the prophecy is coming true.”
“The prophecy?” Semminex nervously asked. “You mean, THE sword?”
Acerus beckoned Semminex to step closer. Radifen nodded to him encouragingly.
Semminex glanced back at his fellow freed prisoners, then stepped forward.
The Elders cleared a path for the young man as he walked into the chamber at the end of a long hallway.
One pure beam of light came down the center of the small room, and inside the light was a beautiful gleaming sword in a metallic sheath bolted to the floor. The handle had a pale blue jewel embedded in its centerpiece, and the blade itself looked polished to perfection only a moment before the Elders opened the chamber door.
Semminex looked at the Elders in confusion, and Acerus beckone
d for him to step forward and go to the sword. The young man walked to the sheathed weapon, moving his eyes up and down in wonder. All his life, he had known of this sword as not only the weapon of choice for Excelsior, but also the shell that held his life force.
As Semminex walked around the metallic sheath, the jewel began to release a strange humming sound. Semminex crouched down to examine the jewel and the closer he got to it, the louder the humming became.
The High Elder’s eyes lit up with joy as he clasped his hands together. “So this is the one the sword sensed. It is true.”
Semminex stood back up and looked at the Elders. “What is true?”
Another Elder spoke. “Excelsior has returned to us!” Despite the robe he wore, Semminex noticed Triterus had a wider body than Acerus and wore no facial hair to hide his double chin.
The young Denarian pointed to himself. “Me? It can’t be me.”
Ducera, a female Elder who looked as old as Acerus, spoke up. Her long white hair matched the color of her robe. “It can, young man, and it is. The legend says that when the person worthy to carry Excelsior’s life force approaches the sword, the great jewel that first held his energy when his physical form was taken from him will ensure that all are aware of it. That jewel is at the centerpiece of his sword, and he is ready for you to receive his power.”
Acerus spoke again. “Go on, Semminex. All you have to do is hold the sword, and he will take care of the rest.”
Semminex still couldn’t believe it. “This is all true?”
The Elders nodded, waiting in anticipation for Semminex to reach out and grab the sword. The young man’s heart began to pound in his chest as he slowly extended his right hand and wrapped his fingers around the handle of the sword.
* * *
Matthew breathed a sigh of relief as he walked through the school’s exit doors, making an immediate left toward the faculty parking lot. The next section was the student parking lot and the MTA bus beckoned from beyond that. His eyes stayed on the bus, anxious to get from the bus to the R train to Northern Blvd.
Excelsior Page 2