She gave him a funny look.
“He will listen to you.”
Sanchor watched, as the human turned and walked away. She knew he had an appointment with destiny; bound by the powers that be to exterminate a queen who betrayed the trust of her own people.
As he neared the tree line, he stopped. He spun around on his heels and yelled back at her. “Your son has awakened from the sickness. Go and prepare him breakfast.” Then he slowly disappeared into the woods.
Sanchor heard something she had not heard in a long time; laughter. Her fourteen year old son stood beside her. A smile adorned his face that was hot to the touch minutes before. She wrapped her arms around him and gave him a kiss on the forehead.
The two of them entered the house together. After the door closed behind them, Sanchor began to cry. Tears of joy streamed down her face as she made for the stove. There was an expectation, for the possibility there might be seed in the small container. The human told her to feed her son. If it were there, it would be another gift from his god.
She had seen in the dream her son being healed. Not more seed. Looking into the canister, she discovered to her amazement that it was full once again. Tears continued to pour from her eyes as she mixed some seed into batter.
“Mother!” The son was ecstatic. “Look at this,” he voiced loudly as his hands were scooping through seed in one of the larger vessels.
Sanchor could not believe what she was seeing. The boy was scooping seed around within the top of the canister. It was full.
“Son,” she said. “Remove the lids from off the remaining three. Please?”
The boy obeyed his mother. Once the lids were removed, she could see they were all full. Over a years worth supply of seed filled the containers.
The boy hopped around the room with excitement. She set the bowl down and joined him. Never in her lifetime did she imagine something like this happening to her. A warm sensation overwhelmed her entire being. Gazing up toward the ceiling of her home, she cried out with thanksgiving.
“Thank you, God of the Giefan!”
24
Darius quickly found an exit out the backside of the House. Politicians and prominent businessmen walked throughout the park grounds blanketing the south end of the building. Several sidewalks split off into different directions of the city. Thousands of people filled the streets.
Darius scouted the area in hopes to catch a glimpse of the priest. He crossed a street at Sunset and Fourth streets. The man of cloth was directly ahead. He was walking at a casual pace, like he had not a care in the world.
He followed close behind but maintained a good distance from the priest. A couple of city blocks later, the priest turned off the main walk and entered an office building.
Darius picked up the pace. The anticipation of confronting his adversary had absorbed him. The timing of this feels right. Why would it not be? Was this opportunity predestined? “God help me.
The front door had been left ajar. Quietly, he entered. He glanced around the reception room. There was no sign of the priest. However, at the west end there was another door wide open. He peeked into the suite. There he was. The holy man was emptying a safe full of credits into a carry case.
Darius could tell Abdominous was not aware he was being watched. As a matter of fact, he had been completely oblivious to the fact he had been followed. Not until Darius entered the room behind him. The wood floor creaked alerting the priest of his presence.
“Hello, Darius.” He welcomed him with his back turned to the door. He continued to stuff the case.” What a pleasant surprise?”
“Wish I could say the same.” Vindication burned in his eyes.
“Oh, come now my dear brother in fellowship.” He paused briefly as he stared at some of the credits. “So, have you come to kill me?”
“I will first allow you space to repent.” Darius could only hope the priest was unarmed. The thought of acquiring a weapon had not crossed his mind until now. If it were to come down to a physical confrontation he knew he could take him. The obese man would not be as quick and agile as he was in his youth. Years of self-indulgence and an additional two hundred pounds of weight had to be a factor that would affect his strength and reflexes. Even the most renowned warrior would suffer from being as fat.
“You should not have come back for me, Darius!”
“Try not to flatter yourself. I found the accommodations on Luminescence not to my liking.” He snarled. “It just so happens I chanced upon you.”
“You have never been a good liar.”
“Maybe because I never had you as an instructor?”
Abdominous was tired of the insults. There was no time for fooling around. He was in a hurry. Very carefully, so his enemy would not notice, he slipped his right hand into his robe. Slowly, he pulled it back out. In the grasp of his hand was a weapon.
Suddenly, there was a crackling in the air followed by a vibrating sensation. The room filled with static.
Darius need not worry about whether his rival was armed or not. The very instant it powered on he knew. There was just one question left unanswered. Was this the same weapon Abdominous had taken from him? Upon further examination, he realized it was the one. He continued to hold his ground even as the priest turned around to face him. Anticipating the initial attack, he moved when the blade was swung in his direction.
As he ducked, he lurched forward. Simultaneously, he wrapped his arms around Abdominous’ knees. This action took the priest by surprise. The momentum generated from Darius crashing into his legs caused the upper half of the fat man's body to slam backward on to the office desk. As he fell, the sword he gripped tightly in his hands arced up. The tip of its blade ripped through the ceiling. Powder-like debris filled the room as the blade of sound decimated the tiles and disintegrated them. Most of the items on top of the desk fell off to the floor.
“Argh!” Abdominous screamed in pain. He released his grip from the weapon. It fell to the hardwood floor. The impact deactivated the weapon.
Darius was well versed in instinct and hand-to-hand combat. Without delay, he thrust his left fist directly into the priest’s privates. They were conveniently vulnerable to attack. He repeated this action two more times before feeling reassured the priest would not be getting up.
Abdominous grasped for air. The burning sensation in his groin felt like it was in his throat as well. He managed to lift his head up high enough to eye his opponent's movement. Within seconds, he knew Darius would retrieve the weapon and use it to kill him. In desperation, he fumbled around on the desk next to his waist. There his hand found a small statue, a large paperweight of sorts. Using what strength he could muster, the priest lifted himself up onto his feet. A sheering pain shot through his hips.
The moment could not have been more perfect for Abdominous. Darius was bending over to reclaim his echo blade from off the floor. With a violent swing, the priest careened the statue into the crown of the Matakeo’s head. His victim crumpled to the floor.
Abdominous went after the echo blade. Darius was struggling to stay conscious and his limp body covered the weapon. This made it difficult to retrieve. Diligently digging under the downed man's waist, he recovered it.
With weapon in hand, he dropped the paper weight to the floor. Towering over Darius, he raised the sword above his head. He powered the weapon on. A savory thought of silencing this Matakeo permanently was foremost on his mind.
Something different transpired before his arm could react to what the brain was telling it to do. Instead, an excruciating pain shot trough his weapon hand. He shifted his focus to examine the area of torment. What a startling discovery. His hand was no longer attached to his arm. The severed limb was lying on the floor. Several feet beyond was the sword. Upon further review, he realized the nub at wrist’s end had been cauterized.
Slowly and fearfully, he turned to the door. There in the entryway stood a woman. Both of her hands gripped a wide-arc plasma cutter tightly. She had i
ts sights aimed directly between his eyes. He never heard the weapon discharge because it had been drowned out by the loud thrum of the echo blade when it powered on.
“Why?” she asked.
“What?” Abdominous had no clue what this woman wanted. By this time, the sensation of pricking needles began to make their way up his arm and into the shoulder region. He cradled the arm with his remaining hand. It was quite the challenge to tend to it without removing his attention away from the weapon-toting woman.
“I do not understand what it is you want from me?” Abdominous clenched his teeth.
“You took my son’s life!”
“What are you talking about?” A few seconds later he recalled who she was. “Oh yes. You are the mother of the little boy who accused me of sampling his young body.”
“You raped him!”
“Come now.” He tried to sound calm, yet his voice wavered. “You know how lads like to exaggerate.”
“My son is barely hanging on by a thread. Your actions caused him to attempt suicide.”
“Please. Put the weapon down. There is no need for anymore bloodshed. We can work this out.”
The woman made a jabbing motion toward the priest with the weapon. She only tried to emphasize what she was going to say next. Before she could open her mouth the priest dove for cover. Believing she was going to open fire on him again caused the priest to panic.
The priest ceased to move. He stopped breathing. The woman stared on in shock for about a minute. Darius sat up. He looked over at the priest and then at the woman.
“Stephanie Lambert?”
“How do you…Oh yes. You are the Matakeo who helped me with my son. I thought you looked familiar but I was not for sure.” The expression on her face relaxed. “You look like you have been through hell and back.”
“If only you knew. How is your son doing?”
She hung her head. “Not so good. He attempted suicide.”
“I am sorry to hear that.” Darius stood to his feet and walked over to the priest’s body.
“So I assume you came here to kill this man?”
“Yes I did!” Her voice trembled.
“Well, you don’t have to worry about him anymore.” Darius rolled the overweight body over. Blood had already pooled underneath it. Protruding from his belly was the base of the statue. Darius grabbed it and pulled it free.
“Looks like an old patriarch did him in.” Darius placed the Adrian Smithton relic back upon the desk. Crimson red drizzled down to the desk top, penetrating a stack of documents. Then he picked up the case with all the credits stored in it. She did not understand why he was handing it to her.
“Take this and make sure your boy gets the best of care.”
She took the case from him.
He made for the streets.
25
The cover of the forest became thinner. Little by little, the rolling hills flattened out into a plateau. Scrub brush replaced the coniferous trees. Rich soil and plush grass gave way to volcanic rock.
Rimsen had walked for several miles. He stopped for a rest. Up ahead on the left was an outcrop of rock protruding from off the side of a bluff. This location was shady and would provide him refuge from the midday sun. It felt good for him to sit down and put up his feet. He was not overly hungry but ate a cake to keep his strength up. The method in which the cake had been prepared was simple, yet so delicious and moist. Each patty Sanchor made was just the right size to fill his stomach and curb any hunger pangs that might arise. He was so thankful she made them. Most of all, he gave praise to his god.
Once satisfied, he closed his eyes and began to pray. The only thought presently on his mind was drawing closer to his creator. Mainly because he enjoyed being in his presence but also because there was currently a lot of burdens riding on his back he wished to shake free from. His faith was strong enough in his belief to know he could not shake the responsibility of the vision, nor the word that had accompanied it. He struggled to clear his mind. His focus gradually became more attuned to the spirit realm. Unfortunately, he could not break through. There were too many distractions in the physical realm impeding his journey beyond the spiritual veil. Sadly, he could not bridge the gap between the two worlds. He gave in to his flesh and felt frustrated for it at the same time.
“God, forgive me for being weak.” There was no reason to repent for his shortcoming. The man knew through his weakness God would show his self strong. Shaking off the feeling of disappointment, he took in the beauty of the landscape. Absorbing it all, he noticed something odd. Up to this point, he had not seen any wildlife on this plateau.
All of a sudden there was a rustling in the brush fifty feet from his position. The noise originated in the direction from which he had come down off the mountain. He remained still. Calm and motionless, he listened for it. There it was again. Without a doubt he recognized the sound to be the footsteps of a two legged creation. He dug around in his pocket. Quietly, he pulled the echo blade from out of concealment. Unshaken, he was ready to strike if needed.
Rimsen readied himself to jump out from hiding. The person came into full view. Surprisingly, it was Sanchor’s son. Extending his right arm out of the thicket, he grabbed the teen by the shirt and yanked him into where he was hiding.
The boy’s first reaction was to scream. He never had the opportunity. A large hand clasped over his mouth, muffling the sound.
“What are you doing?” Rimsen kept it to a whisper. “Is anyone following you?”
The boy attempted to reply but it came out garbled.
“Oh, I am sorry.” Rimsen removed his hand from the youngster’s mouth.
“You scared the begalazian out of me.”
“Are you alone?”
The Lumi had a puzzled look.
“Sure. No one knows I am here.”
“How about your mother?” Rimsen gave him a stern examination. Without a doubt in his mind, he would bet money Sanchor had no clue as to the whereabouts of her son.
“Well?” Rimsen asked. The boy gave no reply. Rimsen was upset. This is not how he visualized his day would go. Now what am I supposed to do?
He could tell him to go home. For some odd reason he believed the boy would follow him anyway. Ignoring the situation definitely would not work. If he escorted the boy back to his mother’s home there would be no daylight hours left for his plans.
“Would you go home if I asked you to?”
“No,” he replied.
“What if I told you to do it?”
“Again, my answer would be no.”
“I’ll bet you would if I threatened to kill you?”
“Sorry. You do not seem like the type who would do such a thing.” Then he smiled.
Rimsen was at a loss for words. In aggravation, he turned his back on the Lumi. He knew it would not make him go away. He did so in hopes it would be disrespectful, thus discouraging the lad.
“You will not change my mind.”
Rimsen faced the boy. “Very well.” He rubbed at his chin and pondered on how to deal with this situation.
“So what is your reasoning for following me?”
“I was afraid you would get lost.”
As much as Rimsen hated to admit it, he truly had no clue to where he was. Furthermore, he had not been given the time to sit down and think about his next move. What he really wanted was that quiet time; a moment to pray for guidance.
“Well then, you might as well join me.” There was a hint of sharpness in his tone. Rimsen sat down upon a black boulder with red veins. For a moment, his attention was not on the boy. Multiple thoughts cluttered his mind once again. Where would he go? How would he be able to get close enough to Malign to take her down? When she was disposed of who would take her place? Would the next Lumi ruler be any better? Or would they be worse?
“Hey, Rimsen?”
Rimsen wished this youngster would give him a moment of silence. He could not blame the boy. Last thing he wanted to do was give
the impression he was annoyed. Slowly, he took a deep breath and exhaled. Some of the tension faded away.
“What is your name?” Rimsen asked.
“Oh, I apologize for not introducing myself.” The boy waved his hands about as if they were an important function of speech making and to emphasize the words. “I am Scion-Roc.”
“Cool name.” Rimsen put his frustration behind.
“Thank you.” Scion continued to stare intently in his eyes. He waited for him to reply. When he could stand it no longer, he asked the human a question he hoped would have been asked.
“Do you know what my name means?”
“Not a clue, kid. I am sure you plan on telling me. Correct?”
“It means, heir.”
“You mean like the sky?” Rimsen was puzzled as to why this seemed so important to the boy.
“Not the sky. Heir! As in, I am the rightful heir to the throne.”
Rimsen came close to biting his tongue. He found this hard to digest. This was definitely not what he expected the boy to say. To make matters worse, this boy’s mother is the one who had the dream; a dream about him killing the current despot who sets on that very throne. If it had not been for the confirmation from God about this vision, he might have thought he was being set up.
“Look here, kid. You seriously expect me to believe you?”
“Yes, I do.” The seriousness exhibited upon Scion’s face was very persuasive. “My grandfather, who sat on the throne, had fallen gravely ill. My father was the firstborn and to be the successor. My Aunt Malign poisoned her brother so she could claim the seat. My mother was pregnant with me but not aware of it at the time of my father’s death. I had been conceived a day before father’s passing. So according to our law, since father had no offspring the crown went to the oldest sibling younger than himself. Once mother realized she was carrying me, it was too late. Malign was already in power.”
“Well, what about your mother? Was she ousted by Malign?”
“No. Without father, mother had nothing. She did not come from the bloodline.”
Matakeo: Echoes of the Future Page 17