The Awakening (The Fempiror Chronicles Book 1)

by George Willson

  “Thank you,” Zechariah said.

  Jarvis turned to another set of double doors set in the wall to the right of the entryway. He turned back to them just before he entered.

  “Please wait here,” he said and walked into the office. As the doors opened for a moment, David could see an empty desk and windows showing the darkness outside. He glanced around and realized there were windows in this office, but they had shutters on the inside to allow the Fempiror inside the office either to open the windows to the night or to shut out the sunlight completely during the day.

  David looked at Zechariah. “What was that all about?” he asked.

  Zechariah held up a finger. “Patience,” he said.

  Jarvis walked out of the office with the same very smug expression he had before. He stood before them and his head cocked up just a little as he spoke.

  “Head Karian is too busy to speak to you at this time,” Jarvis said. Zechariah was unmoved.

  “Did you tell him about the Tepish?” Zechariah asked.

  “Yes,” Jarvis replied.

  “And he doesn’t want to know about it?”

  “He is very busy.”

  “When does he want us to come back?”

  “He didn’t say.”

  “Then we’ll see him now.”

  “What?”

  Zechariah pushed Jarvis out of the way and swung open the double doors leading into Head Karian’s office. A very fit man who appeared to be in his 60’s with deep, piercing blue eyes was now sitting in a plush chair behind a polished wooden desk watching them. He wore a light shirt and purple waistcoat and folded his hands as he stared. He was slightly reclined in his chair as if he were enjoying a show, or simply waiting for this scenario to occur.

  “Mr. Zechariah,” Jarvis said desperately, “you cannot storm in here like this.”

  Zechariah turned on the spot, halting mid-stride, and looked at Jarvis. “What are you going to do, Jarvis?” he asked quickly. “You never were the fighter you claimed to be, and clearly you haven’t changed. I imagine that’s why you’re still, after all these years, Karian’s personal lackey. Even before he was the Head, you were his manservant, but you could never be his bodyguard, could you?”

  Jarvis averted his eyes without a word. He glanced at Karian who gestured to him to leave. Jarvis nodded and left the room, closing the door behind him. David had suspected that they knew each other, but apparently, it went back more than just a few years.

  Zechariah turned to Karian, still waiting patiently. “I need a meeting of the council tonight,” Zechariah said.

  “You can’t be serious,” Karian scoffed.

  “The only way this will get out is to call a meeting,” Zechariah insisted.

  “Jarvis briefed me,” Karian said in a bored tone, rolling his eyes, “and this is not a matter for the council.”

  “It’s the return of the dark side of our race,” Zechariah said desperately. “How is this not a council matter?”

  Karian leaned forward on his desk, his manner turning patronizing. “While we appreciate your concern in this matter,” he said, “the Tepish can not and will not return.”

  “How can you be so sure?” Zechariah asked. “When was the last time you were out there?”

  Karian sighed and ignored the latter question. “The Tepish were dealt their punishment three hundred and sixty-eight years ago,” he said maintaining his level composure despite Zechariah’s passion. “You were there. I was there. There are no Tepish anymore.”

  “There was never any confirmation that the Tepish were wiped out,” Zechariah insisted, “many known leaders were never found. How do you explain the new Fempiror if there are no Tepish?”

  “The confirmation was the cessation of the uprising,” Karian said, “and new Fempiror can be created by accident – you know this.”

  “Don’t give me that,” Zechariah scoffed. “You know as well as I do how rare those accidents are.”

  “Besides,” Karian continued, “the Tepish ideology was revenge. We all felt this in the beginning, and we still feel this at times.”

  “I killed a rogue who referenced the Order of Tepish,” Zechariah said. “He said he was a Redäl Kötz. Not just some random Fälskrüz, but a second level rank only used for transmutations. A non-Tepish would not even know this.”

  Karian chuckled. “You are willing to believe a rogue Fempiror who willingly disobeyed the law? Knowledge of these things can be acquired.”

  “I’m willing to take action at the mention of the Tepish return,” Zechariah replied. “Call the council.”

  Karian shook his head. “It’s not within my power to—“

  “Don’t treat me like I was transmutated yesterday,” Zechariah interrupted. “I was on the council from the beginning, and I know what you can do.”

  “And you were removed,” Karian reminded him.

  “For acknowledging a situation,” Zechariah clarified. “Because you felt I was too dangerous allowing the people to know that there may be a problem. You want them ignorant; I want them informed. Under Council Procedure fifty-seven, any Fempiror may request a meeting of the council if it concerns a possible threat to our race.”

  The two stared at each other for a long moment. Karian looked very angry with Zechariah calling him out on this point. Without moving, Karian spoke again. “Very well. The council will convene in four giraf. Choose your words carefully. We don’t want false rumors, and we don’t want to incite panic.”

  Zechariah nodded. “Thank you,” he said.

  And with some obligatory parting pleasantries, Zechariah turned and left the room, followed closely by David. As when they entered, Zechariah walked swiftly through the building and exited. David could barely keep up with him.

  Once they were outside, David had to say something. “Slow down, Zechariah. What is going on?” Zechariah slowed his pace a little allowing David to catch up and walk beside him.

  Zechariah sighed. “The Tepish will not do anything until they are certain they can win,” he said. “The ability to act with patience is the biggest advantage to having a long life. I believe the Tepish are building their forces, and their time is near.”

  “And the council doesn’t agree?” David asked.

  “No,” Zechariah responded, shaking his head, “You heard his opinion of me. They don’t believe a word of it. They never have.”

  David nodded and looked around briefly.

  “Now,” Zechariah continued, “I need to talk to an old friend of mine before the meeting. There, we will discuss your future.”

  David looked back to him quickly. He was not about to let them decide what was best for him.

  “My future?” he asked. “My future is with Beth.” Despite his fascination with the Fempiror and their society, his heart still remained with Beth, and he fully intended to return at his earliest opportunity. He did not know when that would be since he would be unable to find Hauginstown from Erim.

  Zechariah shook his head. “That’s not possible,” he said.

  David stopped. “How can you say that?” he asked angrily. Zechariah stopped and turned to him. “You don’t know me,” David continued. “You think I can just accept this fate of darkness like you have? I’m not like you. I didn’t ask for this. How can you begin to know what I’m going through?”

  Zechariah took a reflexive step toward David, centering himself in front of him. “You listen to me, child,” Zechariah said angrily. “I know exactly what you’re going through. We were soldiers used in an experiment, and when the war was over, we were outcast and forced to live on our own. I watched friends kill themselves because they couldn't take it. I have gone through more years of soul-searching than that little town of yours has existed. Don't you tell me what you're going through! You know nothing!”

  Zechariah turned and walked away from David down the busy street. David watched him for a moment. Zechariah’s passion about this was clear, but David still did not understand why Zechariah
felt this way. He disagreed with Zechariah’s determination, but he also could not argue that Zechariah was not being good to him, despite David’s poor attitude. It was also no way to treat an elder. He could acknowledge that his parents taught him better than this.

  David ran through the crowds to catch back up to Zechariah. He noticed for the first time just how many people were out on the streets, and how many of them looked normal. None of them were dressed like Zechariah with his black riding coat, long trousers, hatless head, Rastem sword, and gauntlets. Like Karian and Jarvis, they looked like regular people – breeches, stockings, waistcoat, hat, and even coats and frocks – but they were of varying colors and some of finer material than he had ever seen. David had left his coat at home, and he felt a little underdressed as a result since his father taught him that he should wear it in public even though he often went without during the day at the shop. Among the women, he noticed the low-necked gowns his mother often made as well as the more modern convention of the jacket and petticoat that his mother completely disapproved of. It was the middle of the night, but everyone looked normal to him. He looked back to Zechariah, still walking silently, looking directly ahead – like a soldier among civilians.

  “Forgive me,” David sighed. “I know you said you’d help. It’s just hard to let go of.”

  “I understand,” Zechariah said gently, without a trace of malice in his voice. It was as if he had never been angry with David at all.

  David stared at the ground for a moment. With everything Zechariah had told him, there was still one thing that made no sense. Abraham had told him about remedies and potions and that sort of thing from his father’s store, and this thing they have is not even a sickness, but something they somehow managed to create themselves.

  “Why isn’t there a cure?” David asked.

  Zechariah turned to him with a look of surprise. He sighed and shook his head. “There was one once,” he said, sadly.

  “What happened to it?” David asked, with a touch of excitement.

  “It was lost,” Zechariah said. “The Tepish destroyed Voivode’s laboratory and used some of their own blood to change him into a Fempiror as an act of vengeance for ‘ruining their lives.’ The work he’d done was lost with the laboratory.”

  “Couldn’t he just recreate it?” David asked.

  “For over a hundred years he tried,” Zechariah said, “but some piece of it was lost. Finally, he accepted his fate and lives in his ancestral home in the Carpathian Mountains out east.”

  David nodded and looked at the ground as they walked. An idea was brewing in his mind – something that just might serve to provide a solution to his predicament.

  “So the Fempiror serum runs through our blood?” David asked.

  “Yes,” Zechariah replied, not turning from their walk.

  “How does it change people?” David asked, still staring straight ahead in thought.

  “Not completely sure,” Zechariah said with a shrug. “I’ve been told that when our blood merges with the blood of a regular human, it destroys the old blood and multiplies rapidly, replacing the old blood for the new. From there it spreads into every part of the body, changing you piece by piece until you’re a new person. Or rather, a new Fempiror.” Zechariah turned to him. “Or something like that. Why do you ask?”

  David shrugged. “Curious,” he said nonchalantly.

  Zechariah stopped and looked at him. He shook his head, and his voice went dead serious. “I know you take me for a foolish old man, David,” Zechariah said flatly, “but I see something in your face that I don’t like. Explain yourself.”

  David was suddenly self-conscious of his thoughts. He shrugged and tried to play it off as easily as possible, but he was afraid that Zechariah would have something negative to say about it.

  “Well,” he began, wishing he had never brought it up, “if I can’t go back to Hauginstown, maybe Beth would want to be changed too, so we could still be together.”

  Before he could glance back to Zechariah, Zechariah moved faster than he had seen the old man or anyone else move in his life. Zechariah grabbed him by the shirt collar and carried him easily into a nearby alley. He held David tight against the wall, knocking David’s hat off. Now, David was truly afraid of Zechariah.

  “Don’t you ever think of doing that,” Zechariah said angrily. “One of the highest crimes you can commit is willful transmutation. It is the first and most important rule of the Rastem Code. Not only is it morally corrupt, it is a sin against the person you change. You have no idea what you’re getting into. This is another reason we don’t permit new Fempiror to return home: because they seem to have this idea that their family would benefit from this change. I assure you, they won’t.”

  “But—” David began.

  “I’m serious, boy,” Zechariah interrupted, “I don’t want to ever hear of this again. Do you understand me?”

  David said nothing. Wide-eyed, he nodded. He did not want to cross this side of Zechariah at all. Zechariah lowered David to the ground and returned to the street. David stared after Zechariah for a moment. He did not know what to do. He retrieved his hat and ran to catch up to Zechariah.

  “But I love her,” David said desperately, hoping Zechariah would understand his position.

  “If you love her,” Zechariah said, “Then you’ll let her go.”

  “I can’t,” David said, shaking his head.

  Zechariah stopped and looked at him. Zechariah’s expression remained neutral this time, but behind his eyes was that same anger David had seen only moments before. He spoke in a slow, level voice – almost too level.

  “If you go back to Hauginstown and deliberately change Beth into a Fempiror,” he said, leaning close to David, “I will kill you.”

  With that, Zechariah continued onward. It seemed the discussion was over, as David had no further response. He remained where he was for a long moment before he saw that Zechariah was rapidly disappearing into the crowd ahead of him. While he was certain Zechariah would not leave him alone here, he did not want to take the chance either.

  He jogged to catch up to his new mentor who had just threatened his life and walked silently and obediently beside him. Neither spoke for a very long time.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The Lost Art of Jijunga

  David looked around at the various businesses that lined the streets of Erim. He saw some familiar types of businesses such as tailors, barbers, and carpenters, and some that were unfamiliar such as Cart repair, swordsmith, and churning pool alignment. Erim appeared to be a very busy place, and it was likely that many of the stores specializing in the items that only the Fempiror possessed could only be found here.

  He had originally taken the large number of people for granted as Erim being a town that lived at night, but then, the large number started the questions running through his head again. He looked at Zechariah, who continued only to look ahead. He wondered if it was safe to talk to him yet.

  “So,” he began,” if transmutation is illegal, why are there so many Fempiror?” He watched Zechariah’s face, hoping Zechariah would not misunderstand his innocent question.

  “Well, some people do end up going home and successfully convincing their families that becoming a Fempiror to spend their lives together is a good idea,” Zechariah replied. “Some of them actually consent to this life before they fully understand it. We don’t punish ignorance, but some of those people do regret their choices when they learn the more unkind truths about our existence – especially the problem with sunlight.” He looked at David, and his expression had returned to being the kinder old man that had introduced himself to David only a day before. “As to why there are so many, you have to remember that Fempiror live a very long time, so some of these Fempiror have been here for hundreds of years. For another thing, not everyone here is a Fempiror.”

  “They aren’t?” David asked with surprise.

  “No,” Zechariah replied. “Humans frequently visit a
nd even live in our town. Most of them don’t know everything about us, and we prefer it that way. Some think we’re a kind of future town and don’t take any of it seriously. They’re always looking for the strings on the Levi-Carts.

  “Some stores are open all day and all night, though. Fempiror owners hire humans to work during the day, and Fempiror work the store at night when they get the majority of their business. Honestly, though, humans are day creatures and Fempiror are night creatures, so there isn’t a great deal of interaction.”

  David looked around at the people walking past him. He never paid attention to them closely at all. He just assumed they were all Fempiror, but as he looked, he could not tell who was who in all the bustle of the crowds.

  He looked back at Zechariah. “How can you tell them apart?”

  “Why would you need to?” Zechariah responded with a smile.

  David was speechless. With all the grief Zechariah had given him over going home, and all the fuss he had made over humans not understanding Fempiror, here he was in a place where humanity and the Fempiror peacefully coexisted, however ignorantly the humans may be to doing so.

  “What about humanity using your Levi-Carts and such?” David asked.

  “Really, it’s never been a problem,” Zechariah said with a shrug. “They’ve been welcome in our town, and they’ve seen what we can do. They’ve never bothered to take anything we’ve created, and most of them prefer to settle down here and never leave anyway. We’ve occasionally had a Levi-Cart disappear, but we’ve also found it weeks later – intact, for the most part. It takes more than just the creation to make another one, David. It also takes the know-how we’ve spent centuries learning. Even if they did remake it, they couldn’t maintain it without help. We don’t give them the help.”

  David considered this carefully. If he did take a Levi-Cart or one of their lights, he would never be able to make another one, no matter how long he worked at it. He knew something powered the lights to make them light up, but he had no idea what that was. Same with the Levi-Carts. He might be able to run Zechariah’s for a while, but what happened if it stopped going?