by Jared Stone
“You desire the Lady of the Night to once again walk this earth?” inquired Ini-herit with a hint of restrained exaltation in his voice.
“The Prophecy speaks of a union between god and human,” Samael responded. “I can think of no more suitably powerful human than one who arose at the Time of Genesis, before the fall of man. We shall need such a significant source of power if we are to break the seal of Our Lord’s prison and free Him to save all beings.”
“Understood. Consider it done,” the high priest said.
“Splendid,” Samael exclaimed. “In return for your services, My Lord has vowed to not only reunite you with the dear ones you lost long ago, but also destroy the gods who took them from you.”
Ini-herit smiled. “I have waited millennia for such a gift,” he said.
“The moment is close at hand,” Samael affirmed, standing up from his chair. Ini-herit stood as well. The two men performed a slight bow again before the priest began walking to the exit. As he did so, Samael moved over to a massive, ornate wooden desk set to the side of the room.
After the priest was gone and the doors had closed behind him, Samael set his hands upon a large, brown leather tome sitting atop the desk and flipped it open. Thumbing through the pages quickly yet carefully, he sought out a specific section within and read intensely, using his finger to follow along each line. Furrowing his brow behind the mask, he whispered, “Lucian…. What is your significance?”
2 - History
Tuesday, November 18th
Like every Tuesday morning since the start of the semester, Lucian sat uncomfortably in the hard, fold-down seat of his Comparative Religion class. Beside the boy, his friend, Willow, stared at him with her typical, emotionless features. Her black hair flowed down her head and onto the shoulders of her black sweatshirt, accented by one solitary, bright green stripe on the left side. The green hair, along with the girl’s matching green contact lenses, led Lucian to wonder if this indicated that she was feeling happy that day; but he wasn’t yet confident in whether or not he could use these color cues like a mood ring. Though having grown much closer to Willow as a result of her support following Gus’ death the week before, Lucian still had trouble fully understanding her hidden sentiments. Whatever her mood, over an hour of class had already gone by, and Lucian found that he could no longer wait for it to be over to tell Willow his tale of visiting Blake in the hospital.
“So, wait…, there are more of them?” she asked Lucian in response to the information he had just conveyed. The volume of her voice was suppressed to a hissy whisper so that their very strict instructor, Professor Schuntz, would not hear them as they spoke during his lecture. Schuntz was not the type to tolerate the breaking of rules, and he seemed to have particularly singled out Lucian over the past few months as deserving of extra attention.
“Yeah,” Lucian whispered back. “Blake doesn’t know how many or what they’re up to, but he’s certain that Zagan’s not the only bad guy we need to worry about.”
“Well, that really sucks,” Willow said dryly, turning forward again to look at the professor as he spoke on the stage before them. Though the dilapidated, Cold War era theater-classroom seemed odd to Lucian at first, he now appreciated the privacy that was provided by their distance from the professor. Lucian had a peculiar habit of always sitting in the same seat in the second row of the back section of the classroom, which was far enough away from the front to give him some sense of removal from heightened professorial scrutiny. Still, they would have to ensure that Schuntz did not notice their lack of respect for his lecture that day, or else the unknown consequences would undoubtedly be dire.
“We need to be on guard,” Lucian continued after a pause. “I’m certain that, whatever they’re planning, they’re not gonna wait long before they make their next move.”
“Pffft,” Willow puffed dismissively, “bring it on. I’m ready for ‘em.” With this, she stuck one of her black boots against the seat in front of her and folded her arms across her chest.
Lucian smiled at his new friend’s intrepid attitude and eagerness to stand by his side through the greatest of obstacles. Yet, he also felt apprehension at the thought that these new adversaries were, in fact, even stronger than the demon he had just faced; the demon who was barely defeated and had even killed Gus, his few-thousand year old friend and guardian.
“Don’t be too confident,” Lucian cautioned. “If these guys are anything like Zagan, they’re gonna be very powerful. I’m not sure we can handle them alone….”
“Yeah, well…, it’s not like we can just sit back while they do whatever they want!” the girl in black countered in a forceful, yet hushed, tone. Though her eyes were still fixated on the professor standing at the front of the hall, they were set with a steely look of determination and fearlessness.
“But, honestly, this isn’t even your fight,” Lucian whispered back, shaking his head. “You don’t need to be involved in all this. It could be dangerous.”
Willow let out another puff of air through her black lips. “Oh, right. I’ll just leave you alone to deal with the baddies who wanna destroy the world all by yourself, then,” she said mockingly.
Lucian smiled. It was truly nice to have someone so caring and loyal by his side. “Why do you even like me so much anyway?” he questioned lightheartedly.
Willow turned her head and locked eyes with Lucian. “Don’t overthink it, Golden Boy,” she said, sounding both sarcastic and a little exasperated. Lucian still wasn’t quite sure how he had acquired that nickname from the girl, but he took comfort in the fact that it was evidence of some inexplicable affection she held for him.
Lucian’s follow-up inquiries on the subject were cut short by a flurry of activity around them. Seeing his fellow students packing their books into their bags, Lucian realized that class had ended without either him or Willow noticing. As he grabbed his note-book to do the same, a deep, stern voice filled the theater.
“Mr. Aarden, Ms. Foster,” said Schuntz from the podium below them. “I would like to have a word with you both.” He glared menacingly at the pair, standing with his usual perfect posture in a stiff black suit. Lucian briefly had the image of the grim reaper pop into his mind, and imagined that the fatal call of such a creature was no match for the terror which Schuntz’s summoning now evoked in him.
Every student still in the lecture hall whipped around to stare at the two singled-out individuals in the back section of seating. Lucian turned and looked at Willow with fear and a little bit of shock; he realized at that moment that he had actually never heard his female friend’s last name before. Now, upon hearing it, he seemed to view her in a different light. The knowledge that she had a last name had somehow humanized her in his eyes, making her seem more accessible, and breaking through the impenetrable shield she constantly maintained against humanity no longer seemed as daunting a task.
Willow, however, sensed none of this, and she exhaled a loud, exasperated sigh before standing up and looking at Lucian in expectation that he would do the same. Pausing momentarily to grab his belongings, Lucian then joined Willow, and they made their way down to their fate at the podium.
Upon reaching the base of the auditorium, the two students begrudgingly trudged up the few wooden steps leading onto the stage. Standing before the tall, intense professor made one feel as if he was facing a judge without a jury… or perhaps even an executioner without a judge. Schuntz’s imposing stature and presence seemed to naturally belittle Lucian. When the professor spoke, this sensation was only magnified.
“Mr. Aarden. Ms. Foster,” Schuntz addressed each of them again. “I do hope you both enjoyed your lengthy discussion throughout the entirety of my lecture this morning….”
Lucian just stood there, stiff, mute, and blushing in embarrassment. Apparently, his efforts to conceal their conversation from the professor had been in vain, and he realized that he should have anticipated Schuntz’s keen powers of observation picking up on such a disre
spectful distraction. Willow, however, seemed unperturbed.
“It was great, thank you,” she responded rudely. Lucian stared at her, his eyes begging her to keep quiet, but she paid him no heed.
“A stunning exemplar of grace and propriety, as per usual…,” Schuntz stated, his words dripping with sarcasm. “May I remind you, Ms. Foster, that passing my class is an essential prerequisite for your Religion Major here at the University. Should you fail it…, well, you would have few other options for your future here.”
Willow narrowed her eyes and contorted her face into an involuntary snarl, but she clenched her fist and kept her mouth shut this time, much to Lucian’s relief.
Addressing the boy directly now, Professor Schuntz said, “Mr. Aarden, I would like to have a word with you in my office. Alone.”
Oh no, I’m done for…, thought Lucian with an accompanying hard swallow. “Yes sir,” was all he could get out in response. Though the Religion class was only an elective and didn’t truly count toward whatever Lucian would ultimately choose as a major, he still had a desire to do well in all his courses, coupled with a deeply-instilled dread of disappointing anyone in a position of authority.
“Wonderful,” said the professor curtly as he picked up his bag. “You are both dismissed now. Mr. Aarden, I will see you in my office in fifteen minutes. Ms. Foster, I am sure there is plenty of research for you to complete in preparation for next week’s essay.”
Without waiting for a response, Schuntz turned away from the two students and strode out the back of the stage to a door in the rear of the theater.
“Grrrrrr, he just makes my blood boil…,” Willow grumbled, staring so intensely at the exit door that Lucian thought she might be trying to melt it with her mind.
* * *
Lucian had been to Schuntz’s office before, almost two months ago, and he had no trouble finding it again without assistance. The tiny brick building that housed the Religion Department normally looked beaten down with age and neglect, but that morning’s clouded sky cast a dull and dreary light which made it appear even more depressingly pitiable than usual. Lucian stared before him at this sorry excuse for a department building, then took a deep breath and released it as a disheartened sigh as he ascended the steps to the crooked front door.
Once inside, Lucian slowly crept down the narrow hallway as the aged floorboards creaked beneath his every step. The building was otherwise deathly silent, and it gave him the uncomfortable sensation of being a disruptive intruder in a pristinely tranquil place. On the plus side, Lucian thought, at least no one could sneak up on them…. He smirked as he imagined a team of very irritated ninjas foiled in their assassination attempts by uncooperative floors.
Schuntz’s office was located behind the second door on the left, and, when Lucian arrived in front of the correct room, he took another moment to center himself. Breathing in and out, he tried to remain calm by emptying his mind of thoughts and just existing as well as he could in the present moment. Let go, he reminded himself. This, too, shall pass. Ever since he had learned the art of meditation from Gus and Panhavant, he found that these short periods of mindfulness throughout his day kept him grounded and positive, even when stress would have normally gotten the better of him. Although he no longer wished to interact with Panhavant after the sage’s casual disregard for Gus’ death, Lucian found that he still carried many of the wise lessons with him.
Lifting his hand before him, Lucian gently knocked his knuckles against the wooden office door. From within, Schuntz’s harsh voice echoed back, “Enter.”
Slowly opening the door, Lucian cautiously stepped over the threshold and into the professor’s office. Consistent with his previous visit, Schuntz’s desk near the center of the room was surrounded by piles and piles of stacked books. Tomes of every sort also lined the bookcases against each wall, and the floor remained a veritable maze between towers of texts. The familiar smell of old books immediately reached Lucian’s nostrils, bringing to the forefront of his mind the memories of weekends as a kid spent rummaging through used book stores with his mother. Carefully stepping his way around these cherished obstacles, the boy arrived at one of the chairs positioned in front of the professor’s desk and took a seat. Though music had been playing throughout his last visit, Lucian noticed that the room was uncharacteristically hushed that day, and he thought it only appropriate, given the tense environment of the meeting.
Schuntz sat across the desk from Lucian with perfectly straight posture on his hard wooden chair. His elbows rested upon the armrests at his side, and his hands were brought together in front of his chin with his fingers interlocked. He stared over his knuckles at the boy with a grave countenance. Not a word was spoken, and Lucian sat uncomfortably, looking back at the professor while simultaneously running through possible scenarios in his mind. So, am I in trouble for talking in lecture? Or maybe for leaving class early the other day after Gus’ death? Or maybe he wants to try to talk me into becoming a religion major again? Or maybe….
“You are likely wondering why I have called you here today, Mr. Aarden,” said Schuntz suddenly, breaking through the boy’s internal monologue and startling him with the abrupt introduction of sound. Lucian, though momentarily jolted, felt a twinge of relief that his uneasiness would finally be put to rest.
“Yes, sir,” responded Lucian in a respectful tone, readjusting himself so that he could maintain better posture in his seat. It didn’t matter what they were about to discuss; Schuntz’s very existence seemed to command deference from the boy.
The professor took a deep breath and let it out again audibly, still without speaking for the moment. Lucian swore that he saw just the briefest hesitation in Schuntz’s demeanor, which struck him as very odd, given the austere man’s typically collected composure. Now the boy was even more anxious to hear what he had to say….
“Mr. Aarden…,” Schuntz began again in a hushed tone. “Argus came to speak to me last week.”
Lucian could feel his eyes involuntarily widen, as if they held a will all of their own, but his body was otherwise unable to move or form words. The professor simply stared at him while he sat there, paralyzed, for what seemed like an eternity, his mind racing. Huh? What? Who? No, can’t be Gus. No. Who? No way.
“Who…?” Lucian mumbled almost incoherently. He could now feel his heart beating wildly in his chest, reacting as though he had been caught in some sort of lie, terrified that the professor might have discovered the hidden truth. Though, rationally speaking, there was really no reason such a thing had to be kept a secret.
“Feigned ignorance is not one of your strongest attributes, Mr. Aarden,” Schuntz responded without humor. “Do not worry; you have nothing to fear from me. You may consider me an ally.”
Still, Lucian’s eyes and mouth were not under his control, as both remained wide open. “But, uh…, what…?” he finally managed to mumble.
“You see, Mr. Aarden…, for a time, I, too, was a Kílán.” The professor’s eyes narrowed as he said this, as if the truth of such a thing was somehow reprehensible. “I abandoned that path many years ago. Yet, although I had not spoken with Argus for several decades, he felt it necessary to inform me of your current predicament before he….”
The professor’s voice slowly trailed off, and Lucian couldn’t tell if he was sparing the details for the boy’s sake or for his own.
“So… you and Gus fought together, then?” said Lucian hesitantly, still trying to put the pieces together within his seemingly shattered mind.
“One might say that,” answered Schuntz solemnly. After glaring at the boy seriously for a moment, he then added, “It is probably more accurate, however, to say that Argus served as a father-figure to me throughout my childhood.”
Lucian was rendered totally speechless by this. It all seemed too illogical, given the apparent age disparity between the two men. Yet, Lucian had to remind himself that Gus had actually been a few millennia old.
The blank, stupe
fied look on the boy’s face apparently indicated to the professor that he should elaborate further. “My childhood was not easy, Mr. Aarden,” Schuntz explained. “Born in Poland to Jewish parents in the mid 1930’s, I was relocated to Auschwitz with my family when I was only six….”
Lucian stayed silent to allow Schuntz to continue. Not that he had anything of substance to add as the professor began his tale, but, even if he had, it seemed to be the most inopportune of times. What did cross his mind, however, was that Schuntz was apparently even older than his early seventies, the age that Lucian had always assumed him to be. The boy wondered how the professor had managed to stay looking so… well preserved.
“You have undoubtedly learned about the human experimentation conducted by the Nazis in such camps, have you not, Mr. Aarden?” Schuntz asked.
Lucian nodded his head in affirmation, captivated by the unraveling of such an interesting account. Truthfully, he had only heard of such things in passing: catching the occasional line in a historical television documentary or touching on it only briefly in his high school classes. It did not seem to be a subject upon which many people in his life had dwelt, perhaps given the uncomfortably gruesome truth of the human depravity involved. He did know one thing for certain, however: any story instantly became more riveting with the introduction of Nazis.
“Then you perhaps know that the experimentation under the leadership of Eduard Wirths in Auschwitz was particularly medical in its focus,” Schuntz went on. “What you likely do not know, however, is that other, highly confidential human testing involved investigation into the metaphysical aspects of the human condition. Such aspects included telekinesis, clairvoyance, telepathy, and the ability to generate and control spiritual energy – what some cultures call qi.”
Lucian now slowly shook his head side to side. He admittedly had very little actual knowledge about what had gone on during that time period. His interests had always been focused much farther back in history, before the invention of guns and machinery, back to when swords and arrows were cutting-edge technology. He now wished, however, that he had paid more careful attention in his classes to modern historical facts as well.