by Jared Stone
It’s not as if he could run very far on his own now anyway, Lucian reasoned to himself. He watched, pleased, as Shadow again went to Panhavant’s side and lay down immediately in front of the sage’s folded legs, seemingly relaxed and perfectly content to be near the old man.
“So, what do you wanna do today?” asked Lucian, turning to Blake. “We could try meditating again. Or Gus sometimes taught me sparring….”
“What’s sparring?” Blake asked.
“Fighting, basically,” answered Lucian.
“Then why not just call it fighting?” Blake asked seriously.
“I don’t know, it’s a martial arts term,” Lucian shot back, irked. “Do you wanna do that or not?”
“Okay, sure,” Blake responded, seeming indifferent. Lucian was pretty certain that Blake would learn to very much enjoy sparring over meditation, though, once he gave it a try.
“Okay,” said Lucian, rubbing his hands together in preparation. “I guess we should just start with the basics….”
Lucian had to admit to himself, now that he thought about it, that he actually had no idea what “the basics” were, or even how to go about teaching martial arts to someone else. Sure, he had been Gus’ devoted student over the past few months, but that apparently didn’t translate well into making him an effective teacher of the skills. Struggling over where and how to start, he finally concluded that he would start exactly where Gus had started with him.
“Alright, first we’ll see how well you can punch,” Lucian explained, holding up his palms facing his roommate. He locked his elbows out in front of him for extra stopping power, though Gus had always warned him for some reason not to do that. But he figured it couldn’t hurt just starting out…. “Just aim a punch right here at my hand.”
Blake looked slightly concerned. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, man,” he said. “Remember, I….”
“Well, it’s necessary,” Lucian interjected before his roommate could finish his thought, trying to sound sure of what he was instructing. “Just show me how you punch.”
“Alright…,” Blake said hesitantly. Stepping up in front of Lucian, he lifted his arm and, without even pulling back, jettisoned it forward and drove his fist against Lucian’s hand. With such lame preparation and follow-through, Lucian was expecting the most pathetic punch he had ever felt; but, as the knuckles made contact with his palm, he felt a searing pain shoot straight up through his arm. The force of the impact caused Lucian’s limb to ricochet backwards, slamming his forearm with such force against his chest that he fell backwards onto the ground.
“Ahhhhhh!” Lucian cried out. Feeling as if someone had just smashed a sledgehammer against his bone, Lucian grabbed onto his own arm and rocked back and forth upon the ground, screaming in agony. The abnormal second elbow that he now felt protruding below the first indicated that something had most definitely broken.
“Oh geez, Lucian!” Blake exclaimed, dropping to his knees beside the boy. “Are you okay??”
Lucian was dizzy from pain. “My arm!” he forcibly grunted, now doubled-over on the ground. “You broke it!”
Blake looked down at his roommate’s disfigured limb. “Yeah, that looks pretty bad…,” he mumbled with reservation.
Shadow charged over to Lucian’s side, clearly very concerned for the boy and licking at his arm. But this was not the sort of help Lucian needed.
“Panhavant…,” said Lucian through gritted teeth as he looked to the enlightened master through tear-soaked eyes. “Help me….”
Panhavant slowly shook his head. “Pain is empty,” he responded without concern. “Only you are able to help you.”
Lucian bit down and ground his teeth together. The pain was pretty unbearable, and he had no time or patience for the sage’s riddled lessons. “Please,” he begged.
Panhavant stared into him. “Concentrate,” he said seriously. “To change reality, change your mind.”
Certain that there was some sort of profound lesson coming, Lucian scrunched his eyes closed and tried to empty his mind. His arm felt as though thousands of daggers were being repeatedly jammed into it, and the pain pulsated throughout his entire body. He began to breathe in and out, in and out. In focusing on his breath, he could occasionally overcome the pain for a brief second before it crashed over him again like an unstoppable wave.
As he breathed, he attempted to acknowledge the pain and let it dissipate. Though it was relentless, Lucian began to notice his arms begin to tingle, but he wasn’t yet sure whether it was his qi or just the reaction to the almost unbearable suffering he felt.
Opening his eyes, he looked down and beheld his broken arm cradled in his lap pulsating with a faint white light. He could feel it beginning to numb and heal itself. He was overjoyed until he saw the odd lump of broken bone jutting out in a sizable mound on the inside of his skin. Snapping his entire focus suddenly on this, the light immediately faded, and the pain came flooding over him again, seemingly stronger than ever.
“Arrggggghhh!” Lucian groaned, hunching over his broken arm again. “I can’t, Panhavant,” he gasped. “It’s too much.”
With a heavy sigh, Panhavant unbent himself from his seated position and wobbled over to Lucian. The little old man laid his hand down upon Lucian’s shoulder, and, in an instant, the boy’s limbs erupted in a blast of blindingly bright, white light. Without warning, Lucian felt his arm quickly reconfigure itself back into its proper shape, and, though the process didn’t hurt at all, the popping and jostling of bone accompanying it was highly unsettling and made Lucian feel like he was going to be sick.
“Thanks, Panhavant,” Lucian finally croaked out as he suppressed the urge to throw up. He stuck his arm out in front of him and wiggled it around a bit as the light shining from within it slowly faded. “Feels much better now.”
Panhavant smiled. “Body is extension of mind,” he said happily.
“Yeah, well, my mind was too jumbled just then,” Lucian stated regrettably. “So, thanks. I definitely couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Is that so?” the tiny sage inquired with a knowing grin. Before waiting for a response from Lucian, Panhavant then walked back over to his tree to sit once again. Shadow joined him.
Lucian turned to Blake and let out a short laugh. “Okay, so…, let’s not try that again,” he said, still massaging his repaired arm with his good hand.
Blake looked both amazed at the miraculous healing he had just witnessed, as well as plagued with guilt. “Man, I…,” he began, unsure of what to say.
Lucian cut his roommate off with a fervent shaking of his head. “No, no! Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I told you to do it. It was an accident, no worries.”
Blake looked relieved. “Okay, good,” he stated with a half-smile. “Guess you’re a lot more delicate than I realized!” he added with a lighthearted laugh.
“Not too delicate!” cried out Panhavant from his space under the tree. “Adjust to your environment. Not it to you.”
Lucian was a little shocked to hear Panhavant come so close to scolding someone, and he felt just a bit uncomfortable kneeling there in between the two of them. Panhavant immediately smiled again after saying it, but Lucian could tell that Blake took it pretty harshly. “Well, we’ll work on that!” Lucian exclaimed with a smile over at Blake.
“Sure,” Blake responded, casting his eyes down.
“In the meantime,” Lucian continued, “I think I’ve had enough sparring for the day. We should practice some more meditation instead.”
“Okay,” agreed Blake, clearly not thrilled by the idea, but in no position to protest either.
“Come on,” offered Lucian with a wave of his hand over toward where Panhavant sat. He slowly got up from where he had fallen to the ground, and Blake did the same. It was remarkable to Lucian how quickly he had recovered from the intense suffering of just moments ago, as he could no longer even tell that anything had ever been wrong with his arm to begin with. In f
act, it felt almost better than it ever had before! With this thought, the two boys walked over to the sage and got back down on the ground, folding their legs the best they could, though with still nowhere near the advanced level of contortion mastered by their enlightened instructor. As they worked on positioning themselves as comfortably as they could, Shadow crawled into the middle of their seated triangle and also sat down facing Panhavant.
“Awwww, that’s so cute!” Lucian said with a laugh. “Shadow wants to meditate, too!”
Panhavant smiled again as well. “This one has an enlightened nature,” he said softly.
Lucian couldn’t tell whether or not the old man was joking. “Can dogs really have enlightened natures, Panhavant?” he asked seriously.
“MU!” cried out the tiny sage suddenly, laughing heartily and rocking back and forth.
Blake shifted his eyes over to Lucian, searching for some explanation of the sage’s peculiar behavior. Lucian simply shrugged…. That reaction was too abstract for even him to comprehend.
11 - Return
Wednesday, December 17th
The chapel on campus was not designed to hold a large congregation, as serving multiple faiths better lent itself to individual or small group worship. The long, narrow central hall inside was outfitted with several rows of nondenominational pews filled with books from the world’s different major religions. On either side of this center area, private rooms were provided for personal counseling and religious guidance sessions. Though it was still early in the evening, the skinny windows inset deep into the thick brick walls provided little sunlight: the only source of illumination in the otherwise dark hall. In one of the back rooms of the chapel, a solitary candle burned bright, and it was over this that the dark priest hunched, reading intently the lines of a large, leather-bound book.
“Have you discovered anything of interest?” a voice echoed from out of the darkness around him in ancient Egyptian, eliciting a startled tensing of the priest’s body. Whipping around, he saw the man in the golden mask standing not far away, cloaked in the shadows that were not driven away by the light.
“Ah! Lord Samael!” Ini-herit exclaimed, with an undertone of relief apparent in his voice. “I had not sensed your presence.”
Samael smiled smugly. “You forget, High Priest of Apep, that the energies of a Semahín may only be sensed by other Semahínór. Your power, though great, still cannot rival the forces of the divine.”
The priest bowed his head respectfully. “Pardon my hubris,” he stated softly. “It has been ages since I last communed with the gods….”
Samael did not respond immediately, but instead looked around the room disdainfully. “Why is it so dark in here?” he inquired. “Science and innovation have progressed much since you and I last met, Ini-herit. Surely you know of more efficient ways to provide reading light.”
The priest smirked. “I have spent over two thousand years reading by candlelight, My Lord,” the priest asserted. “One hundred years of electricity can do little to change my preferences.”
“Fair enough,” Samael stated reluctantly, taking a few steps closer to the candle. He had always been fascinated by humans’ inability – or reluctance – to accept and embrace change. “Now, tell me…, what have you found regarding this boy, Lucian?”
The priest looked down at the book once again. “Theories only,” he said with clear hesitation and disappointment in his voice. “Speculation. I caution you to not take all that I say as fact.”
“Speak,” Samael commanded, clearly growing tired of the man’s careful staging of the conversation.
Ini-herit took a breath in. “The Prophecy speaks of a time when divine being and human shall unite….”
“I am quite familiar with The Prophecy,” Samael cut in impatiently. “It is the reason and driving force behind all that we currently strive to achieve.”
Ini-herit nodded. “Yes, My Lord,” he said with a respectful bow of his head. “I only say this because perhaps this boy is that of which The Prophecy foretells. Spoken of as a single entity, not two.”
Samael’s eyes widened. “Are you positing…? But, no…. That cannot be correct. That would mean….”
Ini-herit closed his eyes briefly and opened them again slowly. “Legend says that one line survived the purge. Continued even to this day. It is not implausible that there is one who still lives.”
Samael defiantly shook his head. “Only legends,” he stated assuredly. “I was personally there to see the eradication of the very last of their kind.”
Ini-herit looked at the masked man for a prolonged period of silence. “This theory would explain many of the current circumstances, if this boy is indeed karmically bound to our aspirations….”
Samael stared off into the distance for a moment.
“There is only one way for us to know for certain,” he finally concluded resolutely. “We move forward with the current phase of our plan. We shall perform the ceremony on the Solstice, summon her, and see what may be accomplished with her power. You have identified the vessel?”
“Yes, My Lord,” Ini-herit confirmed.
“Then you must seize it tonight,” Samael instructed. “We cannot wait any longer, if what you say is true. We only have a narrow window of opportunity for our plans to come to fruition, and I must know soon whether or not the boy is an integral component.”
“Consider it done,” Ini-herit stated in agreement.
“Ensure that the vessel remains unharmed,” Samael commanded sternly. “This is of critical importance. If you encounter resistance, you have permission to deal with it as you like. But protect the vessel at all costs. The ritual cannot be completed if the vessel is destroyed.”
“Understood,” the dark priest said with a single nod. “I shall see to it that my servants carry no weapons so that no accidental harm shall come to it.”
“Good.” Samael turned and walked back into the shadows. “Return to me when you have succeeded,” he said in one final instruction before disappearing completely and leaving the priest once again alone in the dim, flickering light.
* * *
Lucian heard a knock at his door. Sitting at his desk chair, he looked up from the game on his computer and back toward the sound. For once, he was actually expecting a visitor, so he calmly called out, “Come in!”
The pesky doorknob wiggled back and forth, at first gently, then with increasing speed and intensity as it struggled against the guest’s entrance. Finally, it gave in with a pop, and Willow pushed the door open, standing there in her typical black attire, with heavier layers now that winter had set in, and a green stripe through her jet black hair.
“Why has that thing not been fixed yet?” she asked Lucian disapprovingly with a stern glare.
Lucian shrugged, but, before he could think of an excuse – the truth of which was that he had simply been too lazy to mention the doorknob problems to any university staff – Shadow jolted awake from his sleeping spot atop Lucian’s pile of dirty laundry and scampered over to the girl.
“Awwwww!” Willow said in a squeal, dropping to her knees to be closer to the little pup. She reached out and scratched behind his ears as he nuzzled up closer to her. “How you doin, wittle guy??”
Lucian stared in shock. He had never before seen the girl so… animated.
“Willow…,” Lucian said, unsure if he was even talking to the same person as the one who had entered the room moments ago, “this is Shadow.”
It had been over a week since he had discovered Shadow following him through the university paths, but Willow had not yet had the opportunity to meet the pup in person. Lucian had certainly told her all about his new pet, but he didn’t feel comfortable carrying the puppy around campus too often, for fear someone would create a fuss about the ban on pets in dorms. As such, she had made it a point to come over to Lucian’s room that night to discuss strategy – but mostly to play with Shadow.
“Hi, Shadow! Helloooo!” the girl cooed, absolute
ly enamored with the tiny puppy. Shadow reciprocated with a shower of little kisses all over Willow’s hands and face.
Willow’s newly-demonstrated affinity for animals was amazing to Lucian. Within seconds of meeting her, Shadow seemed immediately comfortable and fully trusting, putting his front paws up on her knee and trying to climb up into her lap. And, though the girl had always displayed a less than favorable disposition towards the majority of humanity, she instantly brightened up around the puppy, showing a soft and nurturing side that Lucian had never before witnessed. Lucian had to admit that he somewhat jealously wondered what it was about her that Shadow found so irresistibly appealing, as the puppy had never been quite so excited about seeing him or Blake.
After a few minutes of doting on the adorable little ball of fur, Willow eventually stood up, threw her bag onto Lucian’s bed, and scooped Shadow up in her arms. She then sat with legs folded upon the mattress, and Shadow crawled over and curled up comfortably on her lap without hesitation. Reaching down, Willow began scratching the puppy’s head as he closed his eyes to settle back into slumber. She momentarily had to pause and disconnect from the physical contact in order to pull back a strand of green hair from her face and tuck it behind her ear. As she did so, Shadow opened one eye and looked up at her, perturbed that the attention had shifted away from him, until she once again rested her hand back down onto his black fur and resumed the petting. With this, Shadow closed his eyes once again and began breathing heavily in relaxation through his little, wet nose.
“So, what’s the plan, Golden Boy?” Willow asked, finally shifting her green eyes away from the puppy and turning to Lucian, who still sat watching from the hard wooden chair at his desk. “Have you boys decided when you’re going to go off and storm the castle yet?”
Lucian shook his head. “I’m still not sure,” he admitted reluctantly. “Blake really doesn’t have any control over his demonic energy at all yet, and I’m not confident he’s in fighting shape; though he’s definitely chomping at the bit to go now. Plus, we have no idea what this necromancer guy has waiting for us, and nothing else has happened to give us a clue for over a month now! What is he waiting so long for?”