by Andrew Ly
“I can’t remember a time when there weren’t any Garrisons,” Nick said. “But that’s just the way the world works. We have to move on and learn from our past.”
“Have we really learned anything? Quite frankly all we’ve learned from our past is fear. That’s why we live the way we do. If it wasn’t for the fear they’ve brought upon twice now, then there wouldn’t be a need for Garrisons.”
“You seem to forget that Garrisons also brought back hope to those who are scared and defenseless. Humans are more capable than you give them credit for,” Nick said. “Judging from your tone, I think you believe that having a military dedicated to demon extermination isn’t necessary at all. But if there weren’t knights to fight for justice then during the Great War or the Second Coming, you could have just as easily kissed those thoughts goodbye.”
“I guess you’re right,” she said.
“That being said, I think it’s funny that you managed to overlook one of the key details to that very well-known story,” Nick said.
Quinn looked at him, offended. “What did I miss?”
“You forgot about the Angel’s Feather. The legend also says that because the angels viewed this atrocity with unbearable sadness, they shed tears from Sanctuary that would eventually become what we know as Orichalon. However, hidden among them is an even rarer stone that forms with ten times the strength of regular Orichalon. The Angel’s Feather. Like this one.” Nick randomly dug his hand into the icy floor and pulled up a large white rock in the shape of a feather.
“How did you do that? The odds of finding one are a thousand to one!” Quinn grabbed the stone from his hand.
Nick’s eyes widened as he realized he held the precious stone in his hand. “Wow. That was done entirely by luck. I’ve never thought I’d get the chance to see one in real life!”
“An Angel’s Feather,” Quinn said to herself, lost in its beauty. “It also has a very unique story behind it that you may not have heard before. In fact, it’s a story that people from Thorne believe in.”
“Keep it.” Nick smiled.
“Thanks.” Quinn held the stone above her head, looking at it with one eye closed as if examining it through a microscope. “Normally, Angel’s Feathers are said to be impossible to find. They say if you happen to come across one and you break the stone in half and give one piece to your true love, then your lives become intertwined forever. Something like a soul mate, you know? And nothing, not even death, can keep them apart.”
“I didn’t think you were such a firm believer in love,” Nick said.
Quinn laughed. “I’m a believer in a lot of things, Nick, but love isn’t one of them. It just doesn’t exist.”
“Well, not with that attitude,” Nick said, surprised by her cynicism.
“Look, it’s a charming fairytale to be sure, but that’s just it—it only happens in a make-believe story you read to children. Nothing more. Otherwise, how can anyone account for the numbers of people who are separated today? Or for couples, who were once so close, ending up resenting each other after taking their vows?” Quinn said.
Nick chuckled to himself.
“What?”
“I never expected to find a girl who was so down on that concept. A part of me thinks you’re just bitter. Jaded by something that happened to you, am I right?”
Quinn had a sad, bittersweet look. “Does it have to be one or the other? Okay, love doctor, what’s your take on it?”
“I believe in it now.”
Quinn raised a brow, flashing a grin. “Trying to flatter me now? Aren’t you afraid of coming on too strong?”
“No, I’m just not afraid of taking chances. I used to be a nonbeliever, just like you,” Nick admitted. “Up until recently.”
“What changed your mind?”
Nick shrugged. “One day it just happened.”
“What was her name?” Quinn asked.
Nick shook his head. “It had nothing to do with me. I was on a mission delivering a special antidote for a small town midway to Hyperion. This woman’s husband was dying after being infected by a cursed plant. The curse put him in a coma and was corrupting him, which caused his body to rapidly deteriorate. There was an extremely high chance he wouldn’t survive. When I had to break the news to her, all she did was nod and hold his hand.”
“Then what happened?” Quinn asked.
“I got there late. I was sure the man was already dead. Nevertheless, I made the trip to their home in the off chance that maybe it wasn’t too late. To my surprise the man had wakened and was just fine. The doctors were stunned to see he recovered. As I stood there, I overheard his wife ask him how he survived. And he replied, ‘I had to come back to you.’ That’s when I knew that maybe it wasn’t just a fantasy. The power of love could actually heal.”
“That’s a nice story, but how often does it happen in real life?” Quinn said.
“Not often enough.”
“Anyway, it’s getting late. I have an early morning tomorrow. Can you take me home?”
“Sure,” Nick said, “I should be getting back too.”
Quinn was quiet for the ride through the forest. Her attention was focused on the special Orichalon he gave her. It wasn’t until they reached the city streets that she spoke.
“Turn here,” she said, as they passed a streetlight. They drove until they arrived into a desolate side of town, where the houses were all torn down and there was no sign of any other residences. “Make a right there.”
Nick turned into a neighborhood with only one house down at the end of the cul-de-sac. It stood ominously in the dark and he couldn’t shake the irrational belief that it could be haunted. He pulled up to the small cottage, which was probably decades old. Though it was hard to see, he made out the stone-like structure that made up the bulk of the home. Its roof and the sides were all moldy and discolored, which he could distinguish even in the dead of night. However, he saw a blue truck parked perfectly in the center of the driveway. It seemed to fit. Old house, old car.
“This one?” Nick couldn’t possibly believe anyone lived in this rundown shack. There were some bushes in the front, which probably gave the place some personality during the day, but the huge walls that wrapped around the perimeter made it appear to be almost like a penitentiary or prison of some sort.
“It looks like a total dump, but it’s actually very nice inside. I’ll give you the grand tour one of these days.” Quinn pulled off her seatbelt. She didn’t budge, but merely glanced at her house from the car.
“Quinn…”
“Yes?”
She tilted her head in a curious fashion, and he knew what he had to do—what he wanted to do. She had kissed him first, but now it was his turn to take control and be the man. He leaned in, the scent of her hair invited him closer, but before he could make his move, his body swelled with heat.
“Nick what’s wrong?”
“I feel strange…” Nick said.
Quinn was speaking quickly, her voice growing fainter until he could hear her no more. Minutes seemed like hours and the feeling intensified until Nick could barely see or sit straight. It was as if his body was shifting, and the center of gravity was lost. The image of her face blurred, the surroundings became fuzzy and distorted. Nick needed air. He managed to open the latch on the door and step out onto the empty street. He took a few steps, and everything seemed like it was shaking violently. He couldn’t keep his balance; his eyes were getting watery. His throat was parched, inhibiting his ability to speak. His senses were quickly failing him. Nick gasped for air as the last feeling faded from his body. Then he blacked out.
Nick opened his eyes. “Where am I?” He was standing upright now in an unfamiliar room, surrounded by people he did not know. He was dreaming—he was sure of it. He had been here before, lost in this exact same place. The people all wore black cloaks that covered everything except the lower part of the face. Everyone was silent. There was only the rhythmic sound of a beating drum.
/> “What’s going on? Who are you guys?” Nick asked.
No response. Not even a second glance. It was as if he didn’t exist.
Nick smelled burning in the air: the thick choking scent of ash seeped into his lungs yet it was strangely invigorating. The cloaked figures walked around, carrying flaming torches. They set their torches down to reveal a red carpet that led into another room. He followed the carpet and found more cloaked people chanting, bowing their heads in a prayer to some deity.
What followed was something he could not believe, but on the wall was a giant framed picture of him wearing a similar cloak without a hood. Under it was a porcelain bowl with water on a pedestal.
They were chanting now: “Agrian! Agrian! Agrian!” over and over again. He walked further to examine the bowl and its contents, only to discover his own reflection in the clear water. His eyes were red, burning like a wildfire. They were demon eyes, filled with evil and hatred staring back at him.
He knocked the bowl onto the floor in shock, shattering it into millions of pieces. The water burst into flames, creating a wall around him, trapping him. The entire congregation rose to their feet in perfect sync. They removed their cloaks, revealing their faces. They were all him! Mirror images, with the same burning crimson eyes that bore into him like daggers! Without another word they converged upon him. Nick could not fight back or resist, only watch as they swallowed him whole, taking him into the deepest recesses of darkness.
4. The Crowned Princes
Nick awoke in a cold sweat. He was back in his room under his soft sheets. His face was faintly warm as he rubbed his eyes open.
“What happened?” he muttered.
He had many recurring dreams, and this one was no exception. However in this particular dream, he always woke up before it progressed too far. It wasn’t until now that he found out who was under the black hood. This time, the hood was removed to reveal that it was actually him, surrounded by mirror images who called him “Agrian,” a name he had never heard before.
“You tell me, bud. When we found you, you were about to burst into flames, or at least something close to it,” Matt said. Nick lurched forward to find his friend in his room, leaning against the doorframe. “We had medics in and out of here trying to find out what was happening to you and they all chalked it up to be one big freak fever. They said it was a fever of two hundred degrees to be exact. You scared the hell out of everyone including me. I thought for sure you were going to die. If it wasn’t for Quinn bringing you back, I don’t know what would have happened.”
“Where is she?” Nick asked.
“Quinn? You know the rules about civilians on base grounds. I sent her home right after she dropped you off. The look on her face though, said she was scared and confused. I take it the date didn’t exactly end as expected?” Matt said.
“Whatever gave you that impression?” Nick said sarcastically, rolling onto his stomach. “I had another nightmare. It was different from the ones I have of Susan. This one caused me to flip out…on a date no less. It isn’t normal.”
“For what it’s worth, at least you’re safe. But now it’s back to reality, bud. We got to pay our dues to the new transfers from the Fyria Garrison. Peter wants all the troops there in formation and looking our best, so hurry up and get changed.” Matt was already dressed in full knight uniform. His usually messy hair was combed back, looking extra well-groomed for the occasion. This meant they were most likely going to be broken into their respective fields of expertise.
Garrisons were broken into five subdivisions based after the four Heralds of Creation and the general soldier class. They each had different requirements and functions that worked cohesively together to keep a Garrison running smoothly.
The Brave Unit, named after Zelios, consisted of knights fighting in the frontlines. These knights had to be physically promising as well as having mastered all aspects of a single type of weapon in the Garrison arsenal. This was the hardest unit to gain entry to because the training was very rigorous. It was also the most dangerous, and yielded the highest casualty rate. However, many of those with claims to fame received it from their impressive streak on the battlefield. Those associated with this unit had red patches of the Glenhaven sigil stitched to their combat gear.
The Justice Unit was created for those who proved that they possessed high fighting potential, but to a lesser extent than those from the Brave Unit. They were similarly trained in most aspects, but were only required to master one weapon of their choosing. Most of their training was in the usage of the holy machines like aircraft, ships, and cannons. They were distinguished by the Glenhaven sigil on a blue patch that represented Yuriel. As a naturally gifted pilot, this was the obvious unit for Matt.
The Wisdom Unit knights displayed higher learning potential than fighting prowess. They were trained for combat, but focused on training knights towards betterment in academia. They were required to pass a series of tests that were an extremely mental challenge. Their ranks consisted of: whitesmiths, historians, researchers, scholars, alchemists, and engineers. These knights were the foundation to the Garrison and were provided with the latest in technological advances and were forging the equipment. This unit was named after Mecurius; the color of their patch was gold.
The Peace Unit was the final section. It was the only all-female unit. Like the other units they were also trained in combat, but were more focused on acting as support for the Brave and Justice Units. Since Joni had an aversion to killing, this unit suited her strengths nicely. Those involved were trained to become medics, nurses, clerics, healers, and diplomats. Strangely, the name of the Herald involved with the Peace Unit was lost in history long ago, but everyone knew his color symbol was lavender.
The general soldier class consisted of people who were either too young, too unskilled, or did not fit as a knight in any of the other classes. The responsibility of this position was doing grunt work like cleaning, cooking, and general errands. They wore olive green uniforms to signify their ineptitude. This was where Nick was ranked.
“Forget it. I’m not in the mood. I’m going to stay right here.” Nick pulled the sheets over his face. It wasn’t worth the embarrassment of wearing the uniform.
“You’ve been sleeping for the past five days. People are starting to talk,” Matt said. “They say it’s that’s why you’re still a soldier. They say you’re not frontline material.”
“I don’t give a damn what the other knights think.”
“Obviously, but I worry about you, bud. I’m pretty sure Quinn’s worried too. Who knows, maybe you made a better impression than you thought,” Matt said.
“You’re my best friend, but you don’t have to say that. I know I messed up. That was hands-down the worst way to end the night. I don’t know why she would ever want to speak to me again. Not when I’m like a walking time bomb.”
“Fine, if that’s how you feel then I won’t give you the number she left for you.” Matt grinned. Nick pulled the blanket off and waving in front of his face was a thin white sheet of paper folded in half. Just before he could snatch it out of his hands, Matt slipped it back into his pocket. “Told you it went better than expected.”
Nick sighed in defeat, leaned over and grabbed his black jacket that was hung over his chair. Matt made a coughing sound of disapproval.
“What?”
“No casual wear today. Not even your signature jacket. Supreme Commander made it very specific that we all had to wear our official uniforms—said it was important we look like a professional organization. Get ready, and I’ll meet you in the Grand Hall before the speech.”
Nick groaned and grunted as his friend left. He allowed himself a few more minutes of peace, thinking about Quinn as he stared at the ceiling. He couldn’t stop from grinning however, elated by the surprisingly good news.
Eventually he got out of bed and went to his closet. He dusted off the shoulder pads and gave it a few swings to air out the olive green uniform before pu
tting it on. It had been ages since he’d actually worn the traditional garb, so it fit kind of snug on his thighs and upper torso. He didn’t realize that he gained quite a bit of muscle since the last time there was a formal event. After he was done squeezing the last button on, he made his way to the Grand Hall.
The Grand Hall was the meeting point for the soldiers and knights, also serving as the prime location for most of the indoor group activities. It was also the largest room in the Garrison, and today it was filled with people. Rows and rows of soldiers and knights stood in block sections at the front of their unit’s color-coded banners, facing the central platform where their leader sat behind a podium. Next to Supreme Commander Peter were five chairs, two of them occupied by his archangels: Sir Lucius and Sir Bartholomew. Sir Gabriel wasn’t present at the moment.
Archangels were the second-in-command after the Supreme Commander. They were in charge of leading the troops into combat. The archangels of this Garrison were known collectively as the Trifecta, and the most fearsome knights in all of Glenhaven. They gained their reputations through their uncanny expertise in their fields and affinity with their angelic ancestors. It was because of their skills that they were granted access to the most coveted holy abilities and secrets.
Sir Gabriel entered the hall; he gave Nick a nod and took his seat among his peers. Gabriel was the only archangel he knew on a personal level, and was also the one most favored by the Supreme Commander. It was never stated as fact, but everyone knew this because he and Peter were always together. Even when missions did not require his assistance, Peter welcomed his opinion. Gabriel had shoulder length black hair that he wore in a ponytail. Despite his hair, he had very masculine features, angular and well-proportioned. He was built like a tank, and carried all the traits of a great warrior. Because of this, Gabriel was arguably the best archangel of the Brave Unit.