As the crack widened, heat in the form of hot gases belched from the interior. They rose upward and flooded the area. The fissure crawled its way along the ocean floor. It uprooted marine plant life that had been residing there for hundreds of years. The large kelp forests were soon enveloped by the gaseous bubbles. The wilted stalks sank into the heated gulp of the ever-growing crack. In a few moments, it destroyed the delicate ecosystem.
The earthquake persisted.
Massive rocks fell deeper in the crevice of the ocean. The rift made its way to a giant mound covered with algae. The instant the fault reached the mound, the underwater turbulence stopped as quickly as it started. Gakunoik gleamed brightly in the night sky, as if to wink to the earth below. And the entity in the giant mound moved, awakened.
CHAPTER ONE
Ken watched the priest’s mouth move as the man uttered the last rites, but he could not hear the words. The sound muted against his eardrums. His body seemed determined to ignore what was happening before his eyes. His heart pulsed with pain. It ached and throbbed, battered by the loss of the star in his life. The significance of this day attacked it, left it bare clear to his soul.
The sun shone hot and bright in the cloudless sky. A warm, balmy wind caressed his face. It ruffled his hair like a mother’s fond jostling. Trees swayed in the breeze, the garish green catching his eyes as he forced himself to look away from the priest.
Okasan would have loved being buried on a day like this. At least she got her wish.
The priest droned on but the words were muffled. Ken’s ears raged along with the rest of him. Mutiny in all areas of his body except his eyes and heart. Finally, the priest seemed finished with the ceremony and he inclined his head to Ken.
Ken took the cue and lifted the bouquet of fresh flowers he brought with him. His mother never knew which type of flower she liked, she preferred so many varieties. The last several months, he made sure to fill her room with as many flowers as she wanted. They created a perfumed atmosphere that comforted her in those final days. At the final moments of death, the flowers eased her way to the next life.
Ken clenched his jaw and fought to keep the tears from leaving their ducts. Okasan would have wanted his smiles, not tears. His joy, not his pain. In a way, she had them both. Pleasure that she no longer lived in this world. Agony that she was no longer in this world.
The flowers trembled in his hands. A battle took place. By throwing the bouquet on the grave, he’d succumb to the finality of this moment. Not just death, but the fact he was alone.
Ken’s lips compressed into a thin line, flush against his teeth. The skin along his cheekbones and forehead hardened like plastic. What should he do? Throw the bouquet in or keep it? Did life only come with ‘pass or fail’ choices? Was there an in-between? A gray area of exploration?
“Kenny?”
The voice jerked him from his thoughts. Ken looked to see John staring at him. The chocolate brown curly hair fluttered against the wind, the green eyes sad. “Let her have the flowers.”
Ken stood, his hand outstretched over the grave, and eyes locked onto his friend. Then he turned back to the matter at hand.
Okasan would love the flowers.
He unclasped his fingers from around the stalks. They drifted on top of the box. Some petals broke free from the rest and fell like rain. They came to land on the edge of his feet.
“Here are your flowers,” he whispered. “I’ll bring you some more later.”
A baseball grew in his throat and choked off his air supply. Stabbing pain perforated into the muscles of his stomach, and he doubled over. Wetness trailed down his face, draining from his eyes and nose. The body that refused to acknowledge his mother’s death now unleashed the agony with the abruptness of a summer storm. Ken gasped and sank to his knees, clutching his middle. John knelt beside him and clasped him around the shoulders.
“Okasan’s gone,” Ken wept as he attempted to inhale deep gulps of air.
His ears allowed sound in once more. The wind blew harsh against them. In the distance, the blare of car horns and traffic beat against his temples.
“Why doesn’t the world stop? Why do they continue to live? Don’t they know my mother is gone?” Ken bellowed and his voice carried across the small graveyard.
“Aoki-kasan would be the first to say to keep moving. No matter what happens, keep moving.” John’s voice broke. For an eternity, both men knelt at the grave in the sunshine and cried.
At some point in the turmoil of grief, John’s word penetrated the sorrow and madness in Ken’s mind. The man was right. No matter what happened, keep moving. Not only that – keep striving, keep running, keep going. Don’t ever stop. Stagnation rooted the lazy in place. Those who persisted in looking ahead to a new tomorrow got to where they were going. If he followed his mother’s edict, he’d someday reach the place where the agony would be no more.
The ache lessened. The tautness of his stomach softened. His tears dried.
With a push off the ground, he stood and studied the grave. John rose with him.
“I’ll keep moving. I can’t stop now.”
“We’ll be back, Aoki-kasan. We’ll bring a fresh batch of flowers every time.”
Ken swiveled and walked away from his mother’s grave. He kept moving.
The diner was packed for breakfast. Ken and John had barely sat down and were given coffee before all attention was drawn to the blaring TV overhead. “It’s with an eerie sense of déjà vu we turn our eyes to the Sea of Japan as an earthquake devastates the Akita prefecture. More than thirty years ago, the Akita prefecture was struck by a 7.8 magnitude earthquake, eighty kilometers off the cost of Noshiro. The tsunami resulted in one hundred casualties and three twenty four injuries. Now thousands are out of homes, millions of dollars’ worth of damage, and many are missing or presumed dead. Rescue workers are working diligently to provide care. The United States, Europe, and other countries have flown in disaster aid services.”
Ken and John shared a look. “When did this happen?” he asked, astounded.
John took a sip of tea. “Looks like a few hours ago. I wonder why we didn’t feel anything.”
The woman continued with her report. “The level of devastation is still being determined. Seismologists state the strength of this earthquake is unlike any they’ve ever seen. It began as an underwater occurrence and then spread along the fault lines to inland territory.”
A graphic appeared on the screen to illustrate her statement. Ken watched along with the other patrons.
“Japan is no stranger to earthquake phenomena. However, the increase in natural disasters activity, in Japan and across the world, some have linked to the extremely rare planetary alignment happening this year. In the midst of this crisis alternative theories are being propagated. The Internet and social media are abuzz. Coincidently, Mercury, Venus, and Mars have aligned with Earth. In rural areas all over Japan, some have instituted or performed ancient ceremonies to appease the spirits. Hundreds have flocked to temples, shrines, and other places of worship and meditation. Some are calling it the beginning of the end of the world.
“Scientists refute the idea that planetary alignments have any effect on the Earth’s seismic conditions. However, this sound advice has no bearing on the millions of people who state the alignment is causing the strange weather phenomena the Earth has been experiencing."
John’s eyes grew as large as saucers. “Those poor people! I feel bad for them.”
Ken made a sympathetic noise. As terrible as it was for the country to be overwhelmed by yet another earthquake, the pain of his mother’s death still took precedent in his mind. In one way, he was glad she wasn’t alive to see this.
“What other weather phenomena are they talking about?” he asked. In the scheme of things, he didn’t really care, but he felt guilty for his apathetic attitude.
“I think they are referring to that weird fog that hit several places a couple of days ago.”
K
en made another noise in the back of his throat. He thought of his mother. If she were alive right now, she’d call him and give him a blow by blow update of the news report. She’d be glued to the TV like sticky rice. He swallowed a lump that formed in his throat. He missed her so much, and it had only been a couple of days. How would he be able to handle it for the rest of his life?
“I think that’s an interesting theory, though.”
John’s voice penetrated his melancholy thoughts, and Ken stirred. “What is?”
His friend waved his hand carelessly in the air. “The planetary alignment. That doesn’t happen very often.”
Ken rolled his eyes and groaned. John’s astrology obsession since childhood had led to dozens of trips to the country, planetariums, and trips to the store for telescopes with high-def magnification in search for stars, asteroids, and who knew what else.
“Oh, not this again.”
“Kenny, c’mon. This is serious.”
“What is?”
“The planetary alignment. It’s a rare occurrence. Only every two hundred years, give or take. A lot of ancient cultures believed that planetary alignments affected the earth.”
Ken scoffed. “They also believed the earth was flat and demons stole their children.”
“Look. All I’m saying is that this planetary alignment is important. Who knows what effect it will have here on earth?”
Curious in spite of his skepticism, Ken asked, “Do they really line up in a line?”
John shrugged and sipped at his coffee. “Not in the classical sense of the term. They occupy the same quadrant in space. However we when view them, it looks like they’re tin soldiers getting ready for battle.”
“Hmmmm,” Ken answered.
“It’s not illogical to think there is a correlation. Many ancient cultures believed each planet affected the next and the next. It shows how we are all connected in the universe like…like…string tied to fabric.”
“Oh yeah? Who’s the one sewing the string to the fabric?”
John rolled his eyes. “God, of course, you skeptic! Matter of fact, there’s a legend about the Creator and this battle between the Sun and its children—“
Ken had little patience for myths and legends now. "You were always into that astrology stuff like it makes a difference. I need to get back to the real world, like work.”
“You’re not going back to work tomorrow, are you?” John’s eyebrows rose into his hairline.
A pretty waitress chose that moment to come by and took their orders. Her eyes latched onto John and a nice color flooded her cheeks. Stars and planets were thrown aside as his friend lapped up the attention like a greedy dog. Ken shook his head in mock sorrow. Aoki-kasan’s death or no, John would always take time out for the ladies.
When she walked away, Ken responded, “I’ve got nothing else to do.”
“You just buried your mother a half hour ago. I’m sure your boss won’t mind if you took a day of off work.”
Ken twisted the wide-banded watch on his wrist, uncomfortable with the direction of this conversation. He appreciated John’s concern but was taken back by his obtuseness.
“I’ve got nothing else to do,” Ken repeated slowly. His fingers squeezed the watchband. The ridges imprinted on his skin.
John’s mouth formed an ‘O’ as comprehension finally made its way through. An awkward silence dominated the table. They listened to more of the report about the earthquake. After about ten minutes, the waitress returned with their order. Tantalizing scents of white rice, miso soup, fried eggs resting on natto, fermented soybeans, bacon, and sausage wafted to his nostrils.
“Smells good.” John gifted the woman with a big smile. Ken looked away from the spectacle. The mop of brown hair, pale skin, and green eyes charmed some women. He’d seen John put on the act and ninety percent of the time, it worked. Ken grabbed his bowl of miso soup, sipping the broth.
The waitress giggled at John’s antics and cast a coy look at him as she left.
Ken did his best to enjoy the food, but he couldn’t get much down. Everything tasted like ash compared to his mother’s cooking. However, he knew she would insist on his eating the food. Ken imagined her voice in his head. No point in starving unless you had to.
“Look,” John grumbled out, chewing faster as he pointed his fork to the TV.
Ken followed the utensil to see the same reporter once again dominate the screen. The upper corner showed a slide show of planets.
“The Druid’s Spear,” John uttered in an awe-induced voice.
“What?”
“The first five planets are working toward alignment. When all of them are in sync, the Druid’s Spear appears.”
Ken’s face scrunched. “Druid’s Spear? Give me a break. We just had this conversation, John!”
“Ken, it only happens every two hundred years. It’s kind of a big deal.”
“To you.” He finished the soup and got to work on the fried egg and natto.
John threw his utensils in the air and they clanged on the table. “Are you serious? Do you know how fascinating stellar phenomena are? C’mon, this is the stuff of legends and astrology.”
Ken leaned back in the chair. “So you’re going to tell me—what? The stars direct our lives?”
“No! What I’m saying is that planetary alignments are like a marker. A guide, if you will. You heard about how the slaves in the U. S. used the North Star to guide themselves to freedom. Sailors used the constellations to navigate. Stellar movements are sign posts, nothing more.”
“That’s still the same as astrology—”
“Shizukani!” John hissed out, his eyes glued to the television monitor. “I’m trying to hear this.”
“—Druid’s Spear was used by ancient Druid clans and other pre-modern civilizations to plan for festivals, ceremonies, and other rituals. According to folklore, these movements are used to implement new rituals to be carried out for the next millennia.”
“See?” John gestured to the woman as if she could see him. “I told you. Markers. Guide posts.”
“It still seems like astrology to me and I have no time for that.” Ken glanced at his watch. “I’m supposed to be meeting Tanka—sensei in an hour to go over the will.”
“You want me to come with you?”
Ken shook his head as he got up from the table.
John let out a small laugh and his head fell back. “I wonder if Aoki-kasan left me that valuable Cracker Jack ring she brought with her from the United States. It’s what started my interest in astronomy.”
“Astrology,” Ken reminded him pointedly.
“Astronomy, astrology. They’re two sides of the same coin.”
The memory of Okasan giving John the Cracker Jack ring played in Ken’s mind. His shoulders shook in amusement. “That’s because she told you a star forged it in its stomach. You fell for it completely.”
John shrugged, unperturbed by the reminder. “It’s fate then. Aoki-kasan gave me a hobby and a zeal for the stars. I always reach for them.”
The waitress came by to ask about the food. She aimed a one hundred-watt smile at John as she walked away, glancing one more over her shoulder.
“And you reached for the women as well,” Ken sniffed.
“Man’s gotta keep busy doing something or he’d rot and die.”
“Your mother wasn’t a wealthy woman, but she did leave you a substantial life insurance for you that totals to two million dollars in USD currency.”
Ken’s eyebrows lifted far into his forehead. Two million dollars?
“You’re joking?”
Tanaka-sensei leaned back into the cushiony leather chair and pushed the eyeglasses up the bridge of his nose. “I don’t have a humorous bone in my body.”
In one sentence, Tanaka-sensei alleviated his life from worker to a man of substantive wealth. Ken leaned back in the chair in the stuffy room, his eyes closed. What did it matter at the end of the day? He’d give it all back to have his m
other with him again.
He sighed and rubbed at his temple. “I guess Okasan wanted to make sure I was taken care of.”
The lawyer bobbed his head like a dog. “Sure, sure.” He continued to read the rest of the will. Two charities received donations from the sale of her jewelry and all her worldly possessions belonged to her son.
“In the event of your mother’s death, you also inherited two hundred and fifty thousand dollars via a life insurance policy from your father.”
“Otousan?” A frown covered his face. His father had died when he was four years old. He didn’t even remember what the man looked like.
“I’m glad he remembered me,” Ken spoke to into the silence. Somehow the idea comforted him.
“Your mother also left you a key. It goes to a safe deposit box in Tokyo. I do not know what it contains. She was adamant you receive it upon her death.”
Ken shrugged. “It’s probably a more expensive piece of jewelry.”
Tanaka-sensei pulled out a drawer and handed over a wide envelope. “In there are all the documents you need to access the safe deposit box.”
Ken bowed politely and then took his leave from the lawyer’s office. The sun beat on his head as he started his trek to the subway to take the trip home. He wondered what could be so valuable to place inside a vault. Strange—his mother lived modestly and worked for a number of years as a clerical worker. Were there secrets about his mother he didn’t know?
The next day at work, a number of co-workers offered their condolences. Most expressed their surprise at his presence in the building.
“Don’t you think you need to take a few days off?” he heard repeatedly in one form or another. He responded in the same way every time. “I don’t need to be home by myself right now.”
Last night, home became a place of despair. His mother had lived alone, but she was close enough to visit whenever he wished. All that had changed. In the darkest part of night, he lay in bed, surrounded by shadows of loneliness. Tears squeezed from under his eyelids and seared a course down his face. The wretched reality of having no one in the world to give a damn fed a desire to wrap a coarse rope around his neck.
The Druid's Spear (Ascent of the Gem Bearers Book 1) Page 2