Kellan’s eyes turned to the plaid pumps that perfectly matched her skirt. He said nothing and she huffed a little. “I assume these are why Juliet has been forcing me to learn to walk in the crazy things. They’re like little stilts, Kellan, and there’s no way to fight in them.”
The young Sentinel shook his head slightly. “It’s Christmas. There’ll be no fighting tonight, babe. How does everything fit?”
Shannon opened the deep forest green blazer to reveal a beautifully made long sleeve shirt the same color as her stockings. She smiled at him, closed the distance between them, and wrapped her hands loosely around the back of his head. She raised up on toes and kissed him softly. “Everything fits perfectly, Kellan. Thank you.” She stepped back and looked at him mischievously. “So, do I look like a proper girl?”
Kellan laughed, “Well, I wouldn’t go that far, Highlander. Let’s not get crazy here.”
“What?” she cried in a tone that displayed mock offense. “And why not?”
“Well, my love, most proper girls do not go out Christmas Eve with knives hidden about them.”
“Kellan Thorne, I do not have any—”
“You do.”
She stomped her foot and looked down, frowning. “These do not even stomp properly.”
Kellan stepped close and put his arms around her waist and kissed her cheek. “So, how many is it. Three I’m guessing.”
She tilted her head and nipped playfully at Kellan’s ear. “Four, you silly boy. And if you are very good, I’ll let you find all of them later.” She pushed off from him gently and said, “Now, I thought you said we were going to be late. I shan’t be the cause of it Kellan Thorne. Be the man and grab our coats while I take a sip of that eggnog you have there.”
Kellan put his arm around Shannon’s waist, pulling her close as she leaned her head against his shoulder. The two strolled amidst thousands of tiny white lights that decorated the Roswell Square. In front of them stood a small wooden gazebo that townsfolk used from time to time for one thing or another. It was free for anyone to reserve except on Christmas Eve. Because, on Christmas Eve the Mayor of Roswell read The Night Before Christmas in one chair while Santa sat beside him in a large ornate throne. The local children would each get a chance to sit on Santa’s lap and whisper their fondest wishes as the Mayor read.
This tradition had gone on as long as Kellan could remember and, as the children were told, Roswell was very special because it was the only town in all the world where Santa paused his Christmas Eve journey to hear the retelling of Clement Clarke Moore’s famous poem. Over the years, there had been talk of moving the event to a more convenient day and there were even several attempts to abandon it altogether because it took place on public land. Nothing of that ever happened so, there sat the Mayor and Santa while dozens of families milled about enjoying the lights and free hot chocolate, poured in steaming mugs by volunteer high schoolers dressed as elves.
Kellan felt an overwhelming sense of peace as the Mayor finished the last few lines of the poem:
“He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!
Everyone clapped and Santa rose from his throne as his traditional escape vehicle, a Roswell City firetruck, pulled along side the square. He tilted his head and rumbled with mighty laughter then waved to all the children before turning toward the back gazebo stairs. As he did so a, communal sound of amazed delight washed over the assembled crowd and many pointed up to the night sky. Thick billowy clouds had formed above the square, though stars and a perfectly clear sky could be seen in the distance. Snow began to fall all around the square and parents stared at each other while children squealed with delight and twirled about.
Kellan felt a soft jab in his ribs and glanced down at Shannon who looked directly into his softly glowing eyes. “You are a child, Kellan Thorne,” she whispered. “A big, stupid, sentimental, child. And I love you.”
He chuckled. “Guilty on all counts and I love you too. Ready to go home?”
She nodded.
“Mind if I portal us there. I’m really cold and just want to get a fire going.”
She looked at him and snorted, “It’s less than a mile Kellan. I think you can make it, besides, I don’t believe we need your Christmas Snow miracle soiled by people pointing at portals.”
He grabbed her hand and started walking toward the nearest alley. “I can’t make it, Highlander. I’m bloody cold. I’ll just portal us from where no one can see. C’mon.”
Shannon still held Kellan’s hand as the portal winked out behind them. She looked around and he immediately felt her alarm. Kellan turned and wrapped his arms around her, kissed her pink nose and smiled. “It’s fine, Shannon, just a little Christmas surprise. Nothing is going to try and kill us.”
She relaxed, but frowned at him. “Famous last words, Kellan Thorne.” She looked around again and asked, “Where are we, exactly.”
“I’m not going to tell you, exactly,” said Kellan with a grin. “Just think of this place as a magical clearing which only exists for this one moment in all of time. Take a look around.”
She didn’t seem convinced but held further questions as she released his hand and looked down. “How am I going to walk around in these stupid girl stilts? There’s snow everywhere.”
“Oh, yeah,” said Kellan slapping his forehead. “Just a sec.” He walked over to one of the tall evergreens that encircled the small clearing and picked up a package. He held it up. “Boots! Now sit there and I’ll slip them on for you.”
“On the log?” she asked looking at the several fallen logs scattered about.
“Yes, on the log.” He answered.
“Kellan, what exactly is going on, there are several logs here and they look like they’ve been placed in a circle. And you have boots for me. What are you up to?”
He tapped her nose. “Spoilers,” then quickly swapped out her pumps for the more snow-worthy shoes. “There, that should do it. Now, go have a look around.”
Shannon allowed Kellan to help her up and slowly tromped around the small clearing. As she’d said before there were half a dozen small logs lying in the snow and which formed a rough circle. Beyond them, thick evergreen green grew in all directions. She looked up at the cloudless night sky and millions of stars twinkled in the inky blackness. Shannon turned and found Kellan staring at her from across the clearing. “It’s beautiful,” she said as mist puffed from her mouth. “But if you were cold in Georgia, you must be freezing here. Even I’m feeling a bit cold.” Kellan’s eyes flared to life and a thin shimmering amber aura formed around her, then seemed to sink into her skin. She smiled at him and spun around. “It’s warm. It’s so warm. How did you do that?”
He smiled. “Just a little Universal magic I stole from Oren’s balcony.”
Shannon’s brow furrowed. “But if you could do that, then you weren’t too cold to walk home.”
“Nope.” Kellan stood and walked toward her. He looked deep into her light brown eyes, then kissed each rosy cheek, her pink nose, and finally placed a final, soft, kiss on her lips. Kellan reached for her hands as she looked on in mild confusion, then he knelt in the snow.
“Shannon McLeod, my soul loved you from the moment we met, though my mind took time to understand. I love the way your lips curl when I say something funny and you don’t want to admit it. I love the way your nose crinkles when you cry. I love at how angry I can make you, but that it pales in comparison to how angry you get at those who would harm me. I love that I don’t know where my soul ends and yours begins. You have been my Soulborn s
ince you were conceived, hundreds of years before I was born. Now, I am asking you to be the one thing more important than that. I am asking you to be my wife.”
Tears were seeping from Shannon’s eyes as she looked down on her Sentinel and sniffled. “Now, look what you’ve done, you daft man. I bet that black stuff Juliet told me to put on my eyes is going everywhere. ‘Don’t cry, Shannon,’ she said to me when she showed me how to use it. ‘Oh, why would I be crying, said I.’ Well now I know. Because that stupid man who I love more than my own life is kneeling before me in the snow.”
He smiled. “Is that a yes, then?”
“Of course it’s a yes. I’ve considered us married for years now, I’m just glad you finally caught up.”
Kellan stood and his eyes flared to life as he began to pull on his Sentinel’s ring. Like it had before, the ring stretched and elongated before pulling free of its duplicate. He stared at it intently and its square stone changed to a faceted heart. He held it up and Shannon offered her hand. As Kellan slipped it on, the metal thinned and a beautifully ornate etching formed all around the band.
She stared at it for a moment then looked back to Kellan. “It’s beautiful, but shouldn’t you be kissing the bride, about now?”
Kellan laughed. “Not just yet. A proper wedding needs a ceremony and witnesses.”
Shannon put her hands on either side of Kellan’s face and said, “I don’t need any ceremony. I don’t need any witnesses and I certainly am not waiting one more night to call you husband.”
Small golden lights began to luminesce among the evergreen branches. Just a few at first but then hundreds appeared until the entire clearing glowed with a golden light.
Kellan gave Shannon a quick kiss and spread out his arms, “Who said anything about having to wait. I know you Shannon McLeod. I know you of old and you will have your wedding—tonight.”
Four glowing circles suddenly appeared all around them, melting intricate glyphs into the snow. They flashed and four women and one man appeared.
“Seramai?” said Shannon, clearly surprised.
“Milady,” he responded with a deep bow, then walked to the nearest evergreen and placed a wrapped gift beneath it.
The Soulborn stared sadly at the woman who had accompanied Seramai in his circle. “Mircalla, I’m—”
The Vampire queen gave a barely perceptible shake of her head and stepped forward, enclosing Shannon in an embrace. She pulled away a moment later then placed a soft kiss on both the Highlander’s cheeks. “No. Tonight is not a night for sadness, young Shannon. Tonight is a night for joy and new beginnings.” With that Mircalla shifted slightly causing her voluminous coat to fall open slightly. Shannon placed her hand softly on the child’s head as Mircalla held her close. She was warm. The Soulborn looked up and their eyes met, Mircalla’s moist with unshed tears and Shannon’s full of wonder.
“She’s beautiful, and fully alive. How?”
“Ordered power has quickened my womb and your soon-to-be husband’s breach of the Guff yielded three souls, not the two we thought. The third he sent to Maggie. There is no precedent so I do not know what her future holds.” She smiled then and said, “I do know that my love for Ah’Anon lives on through the life of his daughter. That is enough for now.”
Kellan reached one arm around the Vampire Queen and hugged her close, then gestured to the other three women. “Shannon, I’d like to formerly introduce you to Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos. You met them briefly with Lamia at Stonehenge. They each are an aspect of Fate and together form the Mantel of Gaia. You can thank them for magic fireflies that don’t die in the cold.”
Shannon gave them a bewildered look and said, “Uh, hello. Thank you?”
The three gave a shallow curtsey while saying in unison, “We are honored to witness, Soulborn.” They rose, walked to the evergreen and, like Seramai, each placed a small gift beneath it.
Kellan gestured and a bright oval parted the night. Juliet, James, and Meghan stepped through, each clearly dressed for the weather. Juliet ran to Shannon and wrapped her arms around the Scotswoman.
“Did he surprise you?”
Shannon laughed, “I’ll say he did, little sister. When he fell to his knees I thought the daft man was having a heart attack or something.”
Juliet grinned, then reached up with a small white cloth and dabbed at Shannon’s eyes. “All fixed,” she said. “I know I told you not to cry, but the mascara I gave you was the good stuff, didn’t run—much.”
Meghan and James both sidled up and gave Shannon a hug then they, along with Juliet, each placed their gift under the tree.
“Did everyone in heaven and on earth know about this except me,” said Shannon moving her hands to hips.
Kellan grinned. “Funny you should mention that because—”
The air above them split open and three portals ripped the sky, two of brilliant green and one of red. Three pairs of wings slowly beat as three pairs of glowing eyes looked down upon the small party of friends. The middle angel glided down to stand before Kellan and Shannon, then embraced both.
“Thanks for coming, Raphael,” said Kellan.
“Someone had to officiate, my Sentinel. This has never been done, and I would not have missed it for the world.”
“Nor would we,” said Michael and Ariel together. They stayed aloft, the white of his wings a perfect contrast to the black of hers, their arms interlocked as Michael gestured upward with his free hand. The Aurora Borealis streamed above them creating a celestial light show the likes of which none had ever seen.
“Are we ready?” asked Raphael with a smile as he placed his hands on the couple’s shoulders.
“We are certainly not,” came Seramai’s rumbling voice and Meghan shot him a dangerous look. “Peace, my Valkyrie. You will approve.” He stepped forward and Kellan felt the wild Universal magic gather around him as his eyes glowed their brilliant amber. All three aspects of Gaia nodded in unspoken approval as Shannon began to sparkle from head to toe. Seramai laughed and spread his arms wide. “Now! Now, we are ready.”
Kellan stared in disbelief as Shannon stood transfigured before him. She wore a sparkling gown that seemed made of the snow itself. It embraced her shoulders with small embroidered flowers and tapered to her waist, then flared out against the snow-covered ground. Her face was partially hidden by a delicate veil and, as Clotho gestured, living flowers bloomed in her hair.
Raphael raised his hands, palms toward Kellan and Shannon. They knelt before the Archangel, hands intertwined, and he said, “Dearly, beloved, we are gathered here in this silent winter wood to witness the joining of this man with this woman—”
Raphael’s voice rose and it became charged with angelic power. “I now pronounce this Sentinel and Soulborn as husband and wife.”
Kellan lifted the veil and gazed on the face of his new wife. He kissed her and knew himself to be experiencing the most joyful moment of his entire life. Finally he broke the kiss and Shannon stared deeply into her husband’s eyes. She smiled and accepted another soft kiss, inwardly proud she’d been able to keep her expression free of any concern.
The violet ring encircling Kellan’s pupils had nearly doubled in size.
The end of Sentinels of Creation, Book Three: A Wizard’s Soul
Author’s Bio
Robert W. Ross has spent the last twenty-five years spinning stories and user journeys into web, mobile, and social experiences for brands ranging from the obscure to the iconic.
He has both a passion for pop culture and a deep loathing to discuss himself in the third person. However, his wife convinced him that anyone who took the time to reach the last page of his book or the end of his audiobook, might want to know a little about the person who wrote it.
To that end, Robert’s influences include authors such as Robert A. Heinlein, Phillip Jose Farmer, and Brandon Sanderson. He has a deep and abiding love for all things Star Trek, Doctor Who, and Sponge Bob. While Robert can often make obscure TV, Book, a
nd Movie references, he sadly lacks Kellan’s eidetic memory. He is quite sure the brain space taken up by all that trivia is directly responsible for his lacking any sense of direction.
Sentinels of Creation: A Wizard’s Soul is the third book in the series and Robert’s current plans include four more Sentinels books to round out the initial arc. He is also considering one or two stand alone novels that would feature supporting characters from the main story arc. This is in response to a number of fans who have requested more details on both Shannon and Meghan.
As can be seen from the first three Sentinels books, Robert has great appreciation for strong female characters who can hold their own, have well formed thoughts, motivation, and are never relegated to simple plot devices.
He lives in Atlanta with his wife of over twenty years, their kids, one Siberian Husky, and about 11 different Apple products.
Author's Note
I hope you have enjoyed A Wizard’s Soul. In this Author’s note, I’m going to cover two very different topics. The first topic describes how I’ve structured my Prologues and the second covers a bit about my writing method.
I’ve been very fortunate with Sentinels of Creation in that most people who read the books or listen to the audiobooks really enjoy them. Of course, there are always some folks who end up not liking them as well. That’s fine. In fact, that’s better than fine. If absolutely everyone likes a given story, then perhaps it’s not taking enough risks. What I’ve found interesting is that almost everyone who has shared a negative opinion, has focused on the prologues. Well, for the folks who didn’t like the prologues in Books one and two, I bet they must really hate the one in this Book.
You see, I’ve written all the prologues to give hints at the overall series arc. By its very nature, that arc illustrates the eternal struggle between opposing but necessary forces. Good vs Evil, Order vs Chaos, Jedi vs Sith, Doctor Who vs Master, etc. This is a thematic that just never runs dry in terms of philosophical exploration. That said, the religious or faith-based overtones to my prologues are just not some folks cup-of-tea. Again, I say, that’s cool. However, I have taken some care to make sure all the stories hang together even if one never reads a prologue. So, if they rub you the wrong way, just skip them and jump into the main story. I promise, you won’t get lost. That said, I’ve written these prologues for a reason and each one peels back the veil a bit more. The goal is that by the time any stalwart reader gets to the last sentence, of the last chapter, of the last book, (Book 7), such a reader will, if I’ve done my job correctly, say, Ah Ha! I see where all this has been leading. Conversely, someone who’s skipped all the prologues might say, Hmm, wow, I didn’t see that coming and my mind is a bit blown.
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