Everflame

by Peters, Dylan

  All of these thoughts about Edgar's mother raised another issue in his mind as well. What would he do with his life? What would be his purpose? If Edgar could not even go out into the world to inquire into his mother’s whereabouts, did that mean he would have to spend the rest of his life on the farm? He couldn’t allow that. In fact, he hated being at the farm. It was the reason he had begun to venture into the forest in the first place.

  Edgar leaned back against the tree and took a deep breath, staring out into the blackness of his world. He directed his senses outward, allowing himself to hear and feel the forest. The warmth of the sun poured over him and he could feel from the direction of the heat that it was only a few hours past midday. As Edgar allowed his consciousness to converge with all that was around him, he began to feel an absolution. He would not stay at the farm much longer. He would go out into the world and though he did not know what his ultimate purpose would be, he became very sure of one thing. He would find his mother.

  Edgar felt a light breeze and heard the sound of a lark in the distance and his breathing became light and easy. It was not long before he fell into slumber, beneath the branches of the large oak tree.

  • • •

  Edgar woke and immediately noticed that the heat of the day had changed drastically. How long have I been asleep? he wondered. Edgar stretched his arms and legs and began to get to his feet. As he tried to shake off the sleep, he became increasingly aware that something was very odd. He felt the heat of the sun upon him, but it was a much cooler heat than he had ever experienced. It was making it very difficult for him to discern what time of day it was. Also, though the heat was cooler, it somehow seemed to be more intense, as if the sun were closer to him. Something was wrong. He thought his senses must be confused due to the recent nap. He decided to sit back down underneath the tree until things had returned to normal.

  Though, as Edgar sat under the tree, he was sensing that things were increasing in their weirdness instead of normalizing. After a moment or two, Edgar came to the conclusion that he had not woken from his sleep after all and was, in fact, still in a dream. He decided to relax and allow himself to be carried through the dream. Edgar felt the sun of his imagination moving across the sky. It was moving at a much faster rate than the real sun ever did. He started to view his dream as a mystery. This sun was cooler, closer, quite possibly smaller, and moving more quickly than the sun of the real world. He allowed his senses to flow outward, unimpeded, toward the imaginary sun. He used his memories of light and heat to conjure an image of what this sun looked like. He held the image there in his mind’s eye. His imagination painted a picture of a dusky sky with a small sun traveling over the land, a few hundred feet above the ground. His imagination began to release the thought that the heat source was a sun and instead embraced an image of a mystical orb of light, and the orb seemed to be moving in his direction.

  Edgar's arm itched and he reached down to scratch at it. That’s funny, he thought. I’ve never dreamed of an itch before. He stopped his arm from scratching. Why should he scratch an imaginary itch? It was, in fact, only detracting his imagination from the much more interesting orb in the sky. He didn’t want to lose it, as often happened in dreams when one’s mind wanders. The orb was traveling closer still and Edgar wondered if he would wake up if it got too close. Much like one might wake up abruptly, when dreaming of a long fall.

  The itch had returned. Edgar tried, once again, to force it out, but found that he was unable to ignore it this time. Angered by his inability to control his own dream, he reached down and scratched at the itch vigorously. Pressing his nails into his flesh hard and thinking, that will show it.

  Pain? He had cut his arm with his nails. Suddenly and shockingly, it became very clear to Edgar that he was not in a dream at all. Edgar quickly got to his feet and refocused on the sky. The orb of heat was getting closer to him and seemed to be picking up speed. Should he run? He was still a long way from being able to run through a forest. He would inevitably knock his head on a tree. There was no escape for him. The heat seemed to be flying at him now. He was sure that whatever it was, it intended to collide with him. Edgar stood his ground and braced himself for whatever might happen.

  Just as Edgar was sure that this thing would collide with him, the heat flew directly over his head and seemed to land a few meters behind him. There was no sound. The forest had been undisturbed. No birds flew, no leaves rustled, no small animal ran along the ground, everything was perfectly still. Edgar turned his body toward the heat and realized that it was not coming from an orb. The heat seemed to be coming from the body of a large person. He marveled at how anyone could give off such a large aura of energy.

  “Hello, Edgar.”

  It spoke to him. Edgar found his mouth dry and out of practice. A response didn’t come easily from his lips.

  If you would rather communicate like this, we can.

  The being had touched his mind and Edgar found that he was able to communicate without speech.

  I… Who are you? asked Edgar

  You know who I am, Edgar. It has been a great many years since I have come to this world. It is for you, that I have chosen to return.

  Are you the same one who revealed himself to the man, Joe Shein?

  I am. However, I have never revealed myself to Joe Shein in the way that I am revealing myself to you, Edgar, but it is true that I communicated with him.

  Why did you ask him to kill? Why did you ask him to kill me?

  It is true that Joe Shein served me as an assassin, and I have my reasons for each task that he was given. However, it is untrue that Joe Shein was asked to kill you. That is a command that he created with his own mind. That is the reason that I ceased communication with him. He had become disloyal. His service was no longer a viable option.

  Why didn’t you stop him? Why did you let him kill my parents? Why did you let him kill Murray?

  Edgar, I know that there are many things that are difficult for you to understand. I would ask that you have faith in me. Can you have faith in me, Edgar? Edgar nodded his head. Good. That makes me happy, Edgar. It is your faith that has brought me to this world. I want you to serve me, Edgar. I want you to be faithful to me. I demand unfaltering faith, Edgar. Can you give that to me?

  Yes.

  Do you believe that I created this world, Edgar?

  Yes.

  Do you believe that I created you?

  Yes.

  And do you believe that my nature is good or evil?

  Good. Of course, good.

  Than what must you assume of those who would go against my wishes?

  That they are evil.

  Very good, Edgar. I can see that I was not wrong in choosing you. It is important that we understand each other. Are you ready to accept your first mission, Edgar?

  Yes.

  Good. You must kill Joe Shein. Edgar’s eyes widened and he swallowed hard. His thoughts betrayed him. Your faith shall always be there to give you strength, Edgar. Do not worry about your condition. I wish to bestow upon you a gift. Open your mouth, Edgar.

  Edgar did as he was asked, even though he shook with fear. He could see nothing but blackness but he could feel the Holy closing in on him. The being extended an appendage and placed an orb of heat into Edgar’s mouth.

  Swallow, Edgar.

  Edgar did as he was told and immediately felt changes occurring all over his body. It was something foreign, something powerful. It felt like being close to a lightning storm. Edgar felt a surprising surge of strength flow through his body. He clutched the staff in his hand and felt the wood give under the pressure. He squeezed tighter and the staff snapped in half. He bent down and picked up one of the pieces and hurled it into the woods. It flew further than he dreamed possible. His strength was amazing.

  Then, suddenly, the blackness of Edgar’s world began to slowly fade away into a deep blue. Edgar stepped back, startled as the light inside of his head grew in intensity. It became lighter and
lighter, beginning to bend and weave patterns in the air around him. It made shapes as it danced in front of him, like ghosts in the air. He looked down toward his feet and saw a plane of blue underneath him as if he were walking on water and then slowly, the shapes of little sticks and rocks came up out of the flatness. He looked back up and saw the most radiant light he had ever seen, in the shape of a man, standing in front of him. The light around the man danced and folded until it had created the shapes of trees. Edgar reached his hand out toward it and there in front of him, was the outline of his hand as it reached up toward the sky. Edgar smiled and moisture formed at the corner of his eye. A single droplet made its way down his cheek and fell to the ground.

  I can see…I can see.

  Edgar looked back up at where the Holy stood and saw a man made entirely of light, enclosed in a transparent orb. The surface of the being’s body crackled and glowed.

  Thank you, my Holy.

  You are most welcome, Edgar. Be on your way now and fulfill your mission.

  Yes, my Holy.

  Edgar turned from the being and felt the heat disappear behind him. He could see. The Holy had given him the strength and vision to be his most faithful servant and he would not fail. He looked at the light that swam around him like smoke in the air, outlining everything in the world in tints and shades of blue. He saw the trees, the ground and his own legs. He turned and began to walk back to the place that he would no longer call home, to the man he would never again call father and to a world that would never again give to him its pity.

  The Messenger

  Edgar walked across the field before Shein farm as his world of blue ghosts swirled around him. The grass was tall and he allowed it to brush against the palms of his hands as he walked through it. It swayed in the evening breeze. Edgar took fistfuls of the grass into his hands, squeezing and feeling the strength in his forearms. He was the chosen one. He had a purpose.

  Edgar inhaled and the scent of lavender came to him from the flowers across the field. He heard the trees sway in the wind. All of his senses were heightened now. He was only just coming to the gate of Shein farm and he could smell the alcohol, undoubtedly reeking, from Joe’s breath. He could see him rocking in his chair upon the porch, scowling and drunk. Edgar didn’t bother to stop and open the gate as he approached it. He merely kicked it in, the wooden slats busting apart.

  Joe stood from his chair and glared down at Edgar as he walked up to him from the gate.

  “What are you doing!?” Joe yelled down at Edgar.

  Edgar didn’t respond, only proceeded walking toward Joe, the smell of alcohol increasing with each step Edgar took. The sweet scent of lavender was no longer present, just the cloying presence of the alcohol. Joe yelled at Edgar again but he didn’t hear it this time. His blood had begun to pound a rhythm in his head like war drums. He tensed his shoulders and felt the electric crackle of power surge through his muscles. He clenched his jaw and his fists, preparing for his task.

  Joe had killed Edgar’s parents.

  Joe had killed Murray.

  Joe had driven away Rachael.

  Joe had defied the Holy.

  Joe was evil.

  As Edgar reached the porch and began to climb up the steps, he saw for the first time that he could remember, Joe’s eyes. They were afraid and meek. Edgar took no pity on them.

  He moved forward with astonishing quickness and grabbed Joe by the head with both hands. Edgar squeezed and tried to crush Joe’s head as the electric energy poured through his body. Joe was no match for Edgar’s power. Nothing could stop him and the drums beat on.

  Joe was drooling and leaking from the nose and the drums beat on.

  Joe screamed and his jawbone cracked and the drums beat on.

  Joe grasped at Edgar’s arms and swung wildly at him and the drums beat on.

  Joe looked into the fiery whiteness of Edgar’s eyes and pleaded for release.

  “Forgive me! Holy creator, forgive me!”

  Edgar held Joe’s head in his hands and lifted his feet off of the porch. He brought the man’s face close to his and whispered to him through clenched teeth.

  “I absolve you. I shall deliver you. I am your messenger.”

  Edgar squeezed one last time and then dropped Joe’s lifeless body to the porch. He picked up the lantern that had been sitting next to the rocking chair and threw it through a window. It exploded in the house and Edgar walked off of the porch, toward the gate.

  The scent of lavender filled Edgar’s nose again and as he walked across the field he let the grass brush his palms. Behind him the fire rose into the sky as Shein farm burned to the ground, erasing a life Edgar would never know again. Erasing everything Edgar had once been.

  Erasing Edgar.

  Blue ghosts danced around Edgar as he raised his eyes to the sky.

  I am the Messenger.

  WIND

  A Rite of Passage

  The days had begun to feel very long for Evercloud and Riverpaw. Their quest to find the Ancients hadn’t been filled with as much excitement as they had hoped. As the oppressive sun beat down upon Evercloud, he thought back to those first few days when they had embarked upon this quest. Evercloud and his cousin had been at the height of excitement. Running through the forests of the kingdom, nothing could stop them. Whiteclaw had given them a direction for travel and that was all they needed. There was many a time when Whiteclaw would tell the two cousins to reserve their energy.

  “The journey we are on shall be a long one,” he had said.

  Evercloud and Riverpaw had paid him no mind though. There were fish in every stream and wonder behind every tree. Every breaking twig they heard in the forest was the footsteps of the Great Tyrant’s minions and every breeze through the treetops spoke of an impending doom only they could save the world from. Evercloud and Riverpaw had entertained themselves verily. Whiteclaw had found them to be amusing on a couple of occasions, but for completely different reasons that he never shared.

  When the travelers had finally left the confines of the forest, they were met by the grandiose expanse of the plains and this had been energizing for all three members of the kingdom. Each one feeling, for the first time, that they truly were on the precipice of a great adventure. The grass reached all the way to the horizon and the sky looked bigger and brighter than Evercloud had ever remembered seeing it. For a long moment, they stared wildly into the great beyond, each imagining great adventures in their heads.

  However, conditions and spirits were now soured and the reality of the task at hand had become clear. Without the shade of the forest trees, the sun came at them in a relentless assault, mocking their progress from its perch in the sky. The terrain had little to no variation and provided little fuel for the imagination. Riverpaw had had enough of the sun.

  “Are you sure we’re going the right way?” he nagged.

  “I told you to reserve your energy, didn’t I?” snapped Whiteclaw. His demeanor had become rather salty. The long march was getting to everyone.

  Food was hard to come by in the plains, as there were less sources of water in which to fish. Grumbling stomachs were becoming a normalcy. The food situation had, in fact, gotten so bad that Whiteclaw had informed the cousins that they were going to have to start hunting the buffalo that roamed the plains.

  “I’ve never eaten buffalo before,” said Evercloud in a doubtful tone.

  Whiteclaw snickered. “You’ve never starved to death before either. Which would you like to try first?”

  The severity of the situation was driven home to both Evercloud and Riverpaw with that statement. Yet it only further damaged their morale.

  It did not take them long to come upon a herd of buffalo, as it seemed they roamed the plains in large numbers. Whiteclaw motioned for the other two to come closer to him and then he whispered to them:

  “Watch what I do, so that you can do this later.”

  Whiteclaw got down on his stomach and began to crawl slowly out to where the
herd was grazing. It seemed to the cousins that he was moving at a snail’s pace. Riverpaw and Evercloud waited for some time as Whiteclaw exacted his plan.

  “This is taking forever,” Riverpaw whispered to Evercloud as they watched from a distance.

  Suddenly, Whiteclaw shot into the air and began to sprint toward the herd of buffalo, his massive legs thundering across the ground. Evercloud and Riverpaw watched in anticipation as they laid their bodies flat against the grasslands. Whiteclaw was gaining quickly on the pack as they ran from his ambush. The two cousins could not believe the speed with which Whiteclaw could run. They had both greatly underestimated his ability. They had always believed that he told them to slow down and save energy because he himself had gotten too old and could not keep up. That was obviously not the case and in less than fifteen seconds of pursuit, Whiteclaw had pounced on a buffalo and the hunt was over.

  • • •

  The plains seemed to never end. A whole week had not gone by and again, they were without easy food. Whiteclaw informed them that another hunt was necessary. Soon they reached a herd of buffalo and Whiteclaw turned to Evercloud and Riverpaw.

  “Your turn.”

  Riverpaw and Evercloud looked at each other, hoping that the other would volunteer.

  “I can’t run fast enough to catch buffalo,” said Evercloud, shrugging his shoulders.

  Riverpaw huffed. “I guess it’ll have to be me then.”

  Riverpaw lowered himself to the ground and began to crawl toward the herd of buffalo. This time it was Whiteclaw who watched with Evercloud from a distance. Riverpaw made his way closer and closer, taking care not to move too quickly. Whiteclaw commented that he was showing good patience for his first attempt. Once Riverpaw had gone far enough that he didn’t dare to creep any closer without spooking the buffalo, he jumped to his feet and began his pursuit. Riverpaw ran as fast as he could but he was no match for the buffalo. He returned to Whiteclaw and Evercloud, dejected and out of breath.