by Matt Moss
King Hobba stepped to the emperor. “Not only will we kill the queen,” he said with a confident grin. “We’re going to light the hornet’s nest on fire.”
ELEVEN
Like a sentinel guarding the gates, Joko stood vigilant at the Garden of Stones. He ate little and slept even less in his devotion. His soul fueled his body and his reserve was plentiful. Sensing someone approaching, he snapped out of his meditative trance and stood ready. “Who goes there?”
Moses stepped from behind a stone and greeted Joko with a smile and open arms.
“Master!” Joko ran to embrace his mentor.
“Hello, my friend. It’s been awhile.”
“You look well,” Joko said, holding Moses at arms length.
“And so do you,” Moses said, then looked around at the desecrated grounds. “What happened here?”
Joko looked down in shame. “It’s my fault.”
Moses looked upon his apprentice with pride. He raised his chin. “Whatever happened here was destined to happen. I’ve learned many things over the years, but none so great as this; do not regret the past, learn from it. This life is too short to waste time on things that cannot be changed.”
“Master,” Joko replied after allowing the words to sink in.
Moses placed a hand on Joko’s shoulder then walked to the edge of the grounds. He folded his arms and looked to the south. “Victor will come for this place.”
Joko joined him. “His men have tried.”
Moses raised an eye. “And you stopped them?”
He nodded and narrowed his gaze on the horizon.
Moses grinned. “Suppose I didn’t fair so bad with training you then, eh?” He nudged Joko with an elbow.
Joko smiled for the first time in a long time.
“How do you not drink for so long? You’re like a camel,” Moses said as Joko meditated on the grounds. The grandmaster had drank what was left in the waterskin, and ate the rest of the food in his pack. “An old man like me needs to stay quenched or else I’ll dry up like a prune. I’m going for food and water. Be back shortly.”
“Yes, master,” Joko replied, breaking from his trance momentarily. He shook his head, knowing that Moses wasn’t that old. He focused on his meditations and freed his mind. The sun moved across the sky with the passing of time. In his mind’s eye, Joko saw himself standing in a field of grass alone, and the warm sun kissed his skin. The world was in harmony, and he was, too. He looked all around him, marveling at creation and all the beauty that it held. As he turned in his dream, a dark storm brewed in the distance and grew with fury. A sense of dread took him over as the lightning flashed in his eyes, breaking against the ground and setting the land ablaze.
“No,” he said and opened his eyes.
He saw the high priest.
Victor rode upon the Garden of Stones with Karn by his side, and one hundred men to his back. He cocked his head and frowned when he saw the dark-skinned man clothed in rags sitting crosslegged on the sacred ground. He laughed. “This is the one who defeated you and your army?” he asked Karn.
Karn bared his teeth in reply, seething hatred upon seeing the mystic warrior once again.
Joko opened his eyes and spoke. “Leave this place. You are not welcome here.”
“And so cordial,” Victor noted. “I like this man. He fears nothing. And I’d be willing to bet that he would give his life to keep us from entering the garden there,” Victor said, pointing to the cavern entrance. He stepped from the horse in his white robe, and walked to meet Joko.
Joko remained seated and looked up to the high priest. “I know who you are. Your soul is dark, and a dark cloud hangs over your head. Everything you touch is cursed. Even hell itself is ashamed to speak your name.”
Victor’s eyes went wide with surprise and he turned back to Karn. “Are you hearing this? I like this bald-headed freak.” He turned back to Joko. “I like you so much that I’m willing to give you a once-in-a-lifetime offer.”
“Save your words, priest. They mean nothing to me.”
Victor’s grin turned into a snarl. “Have it your way, then.” He pulled a dagger from his sash and it flashed towards Joko’s neck. Joko held two fingers up and stopped Victor’s arm without touching the priest. His other hand delivered a palm strike that stopped shy—the force wave driving into Victor’s chest and sending him flying. He crashed near Karn’s feet, and the giant couldn’t help but laugh. Victor stood and wiped the dirt from his clothes. An evil grin crept upon his face and his eyes locked onto Joko. Joko grabbed his staff and stood.
“Kill him,” Victor commanded. Fifty men charged at Joko with the weight of the high priest’s eyes fueling their attack.
The staff twirled in Joko’s hands and he took a fighting stance.
“Watch this,” Karn told Victor with amusement in his tone.
Bodies flew around the mystic warrior. Bones broke as fast as the men’s bravery, and were left in heaps upon the ground. Within moments, fifty men lie dead.
Joko focused his breath and calmed himself. He sat back on the ground, folded his legs, and gently placed the staff beside him.
Karn snorted. “I told you he’s crazy.”
Victor clapped his hands and walked to meet Joko, applauding his skill. “Impressive. You truly are trained by Moses; Warrior of the Light,” he said, mocking the title.
“Leave this place and never return,” Joko commanded.
Victor clicked his tongue with a cocked head. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.” He pointed to the garden. “Those stones in there are mine. And I’m going to take them. Now, if you’re as smart as you are strong, you’ll walk away.”
“Last warning,” Joko replied.
Karn stepped beside Victor and pulled his sword.
Joko glared at the giant and put a hand on the staff.
“Fool,” the giant cursed. His eyes changed and he brought the sword down with incredible speed, seeing an opening as Joko sat on the ground. The large blade struck the ground where the mystic man once sat, and the staff cracked against the side of Karn’s head, breaking the wooden weapon in two. Relentlessly, Joko struck Karn on the neck and head with a barrage of lightning fists until Karn fell to his knees—helpless, dazed and injured. A firm side kick to the chest sent the giant fifty yards. Rolling to a stop, he lay still, facedown.
Victor’s eyes went wide when Joko lunged at him. He stopped the mystic man mid-strike and held him by the wrists. Face-to-face, Victor snarled as he fought to control Joko, but managed to twist a grin as he spoke. “You’re power is incredible. Join me. Together, we will bring peace to the world, and will mend everything that is broken.”
Joko grunted and strained against Victor’s hold. “Leave…this place.”
Victor’s power surged, forcing Joko to his knees. The bald man looked up, tears flowing from his eyes, drying as they streamed towards the back of his head in the swirling force. “Join me or die.”
Joko closed his eyes and channeled his energy. Against Victor’s hold, he brought his hands together and his fists began to glow. The blue energy sparked and cracked in his hands as the power grew, and his voice rose with it. A ball of energy blasted into Victor’s chest and sent the priest flying. Landing next to Karn, he shot back up with a snarl and lunged towards Joko like a whirlwind, engaging him with three strides. The speed took Joko by surprise, but he fought the priest with his fists still blazing with energy.
The two men fought around the sacred ground, leaving traces of blue light from Joko’s hands. Victor’s power increased as they fought, and Joko’s movements began to slow. A forearm blow from Victor threw Joko off balance and, in desperation, Joko threw a kick—his foot crackling with blue bolts of energy. It caught Victor on the shoulder and spun the priest around, breaking his bones. Victor grunted with pain and cursed Joko; just before his eyes turned white and he healed himself in the space of two breaths. To Joko’s horror, he watched as Victor moved his arm as though it were whole again.
/> Victor smiled at Joko and attacked with even more power than before. Small arcs of lightning crackled around his body as he punished Joko on the ground with repeated strikes. Bloodied and bruised, Joko rolled and tried to defend himself, but it was no use against the priest’s power. He lie there as Victor crushed his chest with a foot, but couldn’t bring himself to cry out in pain even though he felt his bones break. He had nothing left, and his vision began to fade.
I have failed, again. Take me from this world and cast me aside.
Victor frowned at Joko. “Pity. What a waste. You could have been something truly special.” He raised his foot to deliver a final death blow to Joko’s chest.
I am sorry.
Victor’s foot stopped inches away from Joko’s chest and his face twisted in confusion. He strained and pressed against whatever held his body at bay, lightning bolts arcing wildly from his leg and foot.
Moses walked towards the priest with an outstretched hand, holding Victor with his power.
“Moses,” Victor hissed in hatred. His power surged and he pressed against the grandmaster. Undeterred, Moses moved Victor away from Joko with a wave of his hand and knelt down beside his apprentice. Joko turned a shaky head towards his master and coughed blood. Air wheezed from his punctured lungs and his eyes filled with tears. “…master.”
“Be still,” Moses told him and placed a comforting hand on Joko’s chest. The grandmaster’s eyes turned white and his body began to glow white hot.
Victor raged and channeled his hatred, his eyes turning to solid white once more as he fell deeper into the tap. Moses still held him as he tended to Joko. His arm gave a slight waver.
Joko felt warm all over as the healing power washed over him. He gazed into the eyes of his master and felt renewed in body. But not in spirit. When Moses was through, Joko rose to his knees and bowed to his master. “I have failed and do not deserve this.”
“Nonsense,” Moses replied. “You fight for honor. You fight for the light.”
Joko raised his eyes. “You should have let me die.”
Moses gazed into Joko’s eyes and spoke from the heart. “Nothing that you do will ever be a failure. You have already done so much, and yet, still have more to do. You are good, and this world needs that good more than you know.”
Victor seethed and raised his power even higher. Moses looked to the priest with a worried grin. He turned back to Joko. “You must go now. I’ve spent much energy in healing you and can’t hold him much longer.”
Joko shook his head. “I will not leave you.”
Moses placed a hand on Joko’s shoulder. “Have you not heard what I just said? This world needs your light. Arkin, Lyla, the Order—they need you. Go to them.”
Joko shook his head again and stood to fight Victor. The high priest slowly regained control of his hand, his fingers curling and stretching. The outstretched hand of Moses that held Victor at bay began to waver. Moses’s grip on Joko’s shoulder tightened and he spoke to his apprentice face-to-face. “If you are to remember one thing from all of my teachings, remember this; there is no failure, only knowledge. Learn from your mistakes and master the mind. Now, go.”
Joko looked down. “I can’t.”
Moses smiled at his apprentice. “Don’t make me do it.”
Joko shook his head as tears streamed down his face. “Please, don’t.”
“You leave me no choice. Goodbye, my friend.” Moses closed his eyes, allowing two tears to fall. In response to his will, Joko stood straight, turned, and ran away in a flash, never looking back. He watched his apprentice go, and his heart overflowed with love and hope. Unable to hold the bond against Victor any longer, he let it go.
Victor slowly stepped to Moses and looked down at the grandmaster that knelt on his knees in exhaustion. “I thought you said that the mind and free will were never to be played with,” Victor noted. He looked at Joko in the distance and watched as he faded over the horizon. “Why did you leave so long ago? The rebellion was your fault, you know. You were the cause of it.”
Moses watched Joko disappear, then turned his head and looked into Victor’s eyes. “I left because I knew that I was wrong in training you. But I couldn’t bring myself to go against you. You were like a son to me. A son who’s ambition for power couldn’t be contained and, to this day, can never be fulfilled.”
“My power grows daily. Before long, it will even overshadow your own, and there will be no one left to stop me,” Victor said, crouching in front of his old master.
“There will always be someone to stop you. The darkness cannot stand against the light.”
Victor smiled and rose to stand. “You sound just like your foolish brother.” He kicked Moses in the head, sending the old man to the ground. “The dark consumes the light and everything with it.” Again he kicked the grandmaster. He beat Moses until the grandmaster could barely move.
Moses looked up through swollen eyes as Victor spat on him. He watched as the priest walked to Karn and picked up the broad sword that lie on the ground next to him. The giant stirred on the ground, slowly. Moses closed his eyes and began to pray.
“Pray all you like, master. It will not save you from death.” Victor hauled Moses to his knees and stood beside him, sword in hand. He wiped the old man’s hair away from the back of his neck as his head was bowed low. “Any last words?”
Blood dropped from the grandmaster’s nose and mouth, and tears fell from his eyes as he stared at the ground—his long white hair drooping around his face. He had much to say and much left to teach. But more than that, he knew that he had even more to learn.
Foolish old man. After all this time of searching, it comes down to this, and you’ve finally figured it out, Moses thought.
He started laughing—slowly at first.
“What’s so funny?” Victor asked.
The answer that I’ve been seeking has been there the whole time, right in front of my face. The answer is that there is no answer.
“Have you gone mad, Moses?”
Moses spoke to the ground in reply. “There is no answer—no ultimate truth to justify the things of this world. There is only the the act of seeking, the knowledge that comes from it, and the faith that binds it. Faith that binds us to something more.”
Victor cocked his head. “Now you sound just like Paul.” He waved the sword with a hand, then raised it high, taking a firm double grip on the hilt.
“Goodbye, Victor. You always were my favorite and most skilled apprentice.”
Victor paused with sword ready to drop. For a moment, it was as if he might let Moses live. He pondered the outcome, then tightened his grasp on the hilt. “Give your brother my condolences, grandmaster. Your lineage will soon come to an end.”
Arkin. Moses began to laugh again as he thought of his brother’s grandson, knowing that he trained Arkin, and that he would stand to fight against Victor. And though he didn’t use a stone of sight to foresee the future, he knew in his heart that Arkin would win.
He laughed because he loved Arkin and was thankful for the time they shared.
He laughed for the madness in the world, and fate’s hand in controlling the outcome of the universe.
He laughed because his lifelong search for answers was finally over.
He laughed until his soul was set free.
TWELVE
Lyla and Cain made quick time getting back to the Order’s camp after leaving her family’s farm in Fortuna. The weather was favorable, the road clear of bandits and thieves, and Lyla’s trust in Cain grew stronger. He was as charming as ever, and she could see why she once felt an attraction to him even though she was in love with Arkin. But there was something off about him that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Every time that suspicious feeling arrived, Cain called her attention.
“If only you could see yourself in this light. Absolutely stunning.” He smiled at her, then looked ahead after she turned to him.
“You know that’s the third time you’ve
made a comment like that.”
“I can’t help it, Lyla. Like a river that makes its way to the sea, you have carved a path straight to my heart.”
“I’m flattered. Truly. But it’s starting to get a little out of hand. Please stop.”
He met her gaze with a grin and a subtle nod. “As you wish. I’ll just keep my thoughts to myself.”
She looked ahead and tried to keep from blushing. It felt good to be admired, but his stares and flirtations were becoming too much. At times, he made her feel uncomfortable as he seemed to always watch every move she made. Even when they rode in silence, his presence was heavy upon her. She shook away negative thoughts, knowing how much he’d been through over the last few months; how much they’ve all been through.
Sometimes people need a little more grace.
To a stranger’s eye, the two of them may seem well—young, healthy, traveling with horses and gear. But to the two of them, the year had been the best and the worst of their lives. A stranger might see their smiles and hear them reply with kind words, but there’s two sides to every coin. And the fissures and cracks underneath the surface is something only the man in the arena would know existed.
“The camp’s just over the next hill,” Cain noted, sitting higher in the seat as the horse trudged onward. He looked at her again. “I don’t know if I’m ready to see everyone.”
She shifted in her seat, eager to be home. “Nonsense. Everyone will be over the moon to see you. What are you afraid of?”
He frowned and looked at his hands that loosely held the reigns. “I’m a coward and a failure. I know it, and soon, they’ll know it.”
Her blood pressure rose. “I’ve had enough of you feeling sorry for yourself. You’ve acted like a whooped pup this entire time. We’ve all been through hell, and you’re not the only one who’s suffered.” She stared at him as he locked eyes with hers. He looked away in shame. She let him have the sharp edge of her tongue again. “You see, that right there is what I’m talking about. Get over it and move on.”