The Nephelium

by Nathan Parks

  She picked up the strewn photos; but as she looked down at them, her hands began to shake. Her stomach began to twist itself into knots, and she could feel her head becoming light. She couldn’t keep her eyes open; they were shutting involuntarily as her spirit hoped that it could rush inside of itself, creating a void so there would be no acknowledgement of what she was looking at.

  “What . . . what is this, Arioch?”

  He had her! He knew it. One look at the photos from the Ceremony of Fertility had brought back every image that he had so carefully held back in her mind until the right moment.

  “As I said, Megan, I suggest you be with me.”

  Arioch’s hand came from out of nowhere. He didn’t bother slapping; that was for the weak. Instead, a full, blunt punch from his fist knocked her to the floor.

  Just as she was fading into unconsciousness, he bent over and whispered, “Can’t hurt you too much. Have to make sure your body is healthy enough to care for the offspring growing within you!”

  A lone tear formed in the corner of her eye, traveled down the curve of her cheek, and paused right before gravity called it to drop, and then she was out.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Arioch entered into his study and went to the small bar to his right. He was livid. He wasn’t sure if he was angry at Megan for being stronger than what he expected or at himself for actually believing it would be easy. He had to stop for a moment and just gather his thoughts once again.

  He sat down in a tall, dark leather chair as he held his drink in one hand and tapped the arm of the chair with the other. Never could he have imagined that his desire to break away would have come together like it was. He had expected that he would have to strengthen numbers; but then to have a Watcher fall into his lap, the chance of a Jerusalem Breed actually being alive, and now a mortal implanted with his seed all in his grasp was more than he could have hoped for.

  Arioch’s mind was racing, playing a strategic game of chess. Adremalech had been told by Kadar about the possible existence of a Jerusalem Breed. Kadar could always be paid off, so this would not be a problem that he could see. If Kadar somehow couldn’t be paid off, he could always be disposed of. One less Nephelium in the world would mean nothing to anyone.

  What of the Watcher? Drake had informed Arioch that the Watcher was clearly put away for now, although no answers were forthcoming from him yet regarding the vial. Then again, no one had really tried to get those answers. The old man would become useful when the time was right. In chess one needed to know what to move, when to move it, and in what direction to move it.

  That left him with Megan. Maybe he could offer up Eve, the Jerusalem Breed, to Adremalech as a dowry of sorts for his own clan. He could use any information that Alfonso, the Watcher, may have that could be of use, then dispose of him. Once his child was born through the mortal, he could dispose of her, and then he would have everything ready for the next segment of his plan. A mortal with the blood of the Clan Adremalech, he should be able to call Legion back out of the abyss. With that, he would have the greatest weapon that would allow him to rise up beside the Morning Star or, even better, become the Morning Star. He loved it! It seemed fail-proof, almost with military precision. He could, at any point, alter the pieces to still work in his favor, no matter if one piece fell.

  “Soon . . . so very soon!” he said to himself.

  An Assassin’s strength is stealth and surprise, so it was no surprise that Arioch never knew he was not alone in his study.

  *****

  She may not be mortal, but she also was not a deity; and Leah was beginning to realize that she had not really slept in about 48 hours. She could feel her muscles working mostly on will power. Her thoughts were becoming sporadic, her concentration wavering. She had poured herself a cup of hot tea, and she was trying to remind herself that she could not leave the Council waiting, but she also knew that she would not be worth her salt if she came before them tired and worn down.

  “So, will I come back excited, disappointed, or even let down?” she asked herself in a calming whisper. “I can feel it. This is something big, and I can’t get rid of the nagging feeling that I have been kept in the dark about a lot of things--but why?”

  Leah’s living area was more like a studio or even a cabin in the belly of a ship. She had chosen to reside at the Sanctum so that she could stay on top of everything and, at a moment’s notice, be ready for action. Many times she chided herself for even thinking that she actually would be needed in such short notice.

  She walked over to a mirror that hung over a stand-alone sink. The sink was on a pedestal and stood out from everything. The piping came up through the center of the pedestal, so it just appeared the sink stood solitarily. The mirror was held in place by two cables going from the ceiling to floor, keeping this “window to reality” in perfect suspension.

  “Are they playing with you, Leah?” She continued the conversation with herself as she looked at her image. “Why this? Why now? Have I not relived all of this over and over? What happened to mercy and grace? Have we stopped mirroring the attributes of Jah? When does retribution get paid in full?”

  She walked over to an antique dresser and opened up a small, hand-carved jewelry box. There was only one treasure in it. She reached down and picked up the necklace and held it in her hand. She felt a surge of power and strength run through her, beginning at the very spot on her skin the necklace touched, then up her arms and throughout her being. It was a simplistic necklace, a balance of rustic and delicate beauty. A small vial made out of a form of strong crystal, embraced in delicate vines of metal, hung from a strong, metal chain. She held it up so that the candlelight coming from several candles throughout the room would catch it just right. It still took her breath away. The crystal vial captured the light and drew it into the crimson liquid that was preserved inside. It always seemed that the liquid would soak in light for a brief moment and then release it in a breathtaking beauty of shimmers.

  “When is retribution paid in full?” Leah asked once again. “Joan,” she whispered as if Joan of Arc stood before her. “I cannot forget what happened nor forgive those who held me back! Why is it so hard to break free of the past and ensure the future is protected? Is Eve the answer?”

  Leah looked back down at the small, ornate treasure within her hand, and her mind went back . . . way back. She could smell the tar upon the wood and hear the raving of the crowd around her as they pushed in. The stinging smell of fire rushed at her, and the heat . . . oh, how she remembered the heat. She wanted to shed her mortal garments and rise above the crowd in angelic glory to rescue her charge, to rescue Joan.

  She could see the flames roar to life around the brave Nephelium, this strong member of the Jerusalem Breed. That was when she noticed Joan’s necklace hanging in the flames. It had fallen from her as they had manhandled her, shoving her to the stake that would be her demise.

  Leah had shoved herself through the church guards who were holding the crowd back and had felt her fingers close around it. The metal had become as hot as a brand from the flames and it seared her skin, but she was determined to hold onto it. She had to have this one memory. The young girl, whom many had called Joan of Arc, had never taken this off since it had been given to her by her Watcher. Joan never spoke about why it was so precious to her, but it had been her most guarded treasure. Leah held onto it even as she was shoved back.

  Leah’s mind raced back to the present as she closed the lid once again, placing the necklace within its protected case. She then turned her palm over, tracing the burned scar upon the palm of her hand.

  “Well, I guess it is time to get some answers. I better not wait any longer or I am sure Michael will have some choice words for me.”

  Michael, the head of the Arch Council, was a perfectionist. He often made a point to present unwanted lectures on how there was a time and a purpose for everything, and they were to move with that time and purpose and to heed the laws of mortal timing.
Leah would roll her eyes at the lecture any chance she got.

  She went to her closet and pushed back most of the clothes she would have normally changed into and pulled out a white hoodie. She then proceeded to pull out a pair of white pants, another thing that the Council was particular on. One didn’t just show up for an audience with the Arch Council dressed as they would every day. It was required that they present themselves spotless.

  Leah pulled her pants up around her waist, fastened them, and then reached for a black belt. She smirked. Most likely they would say this was a sign of the virus that caused the Fallen to degenerate, but she hated the all-white thing; and her hoodie would hang low enough to cover it.

  She returned to the front of the mirror where she had stood a few moments ago and ensured that she had taken off all make up and allowed her hair to fall down around her face. She looked around the room and noticed that her weapons were still laid out on her bed. Another thing not allowed by the Council: weapons. She made sure they were properly secured before leaving to find Ki. It was time for answers.

  Leah found Ki with Troy down on the arsenal field. These two were crazy. If it blew up and it had some kind of technology attached to it, then it was certain that these two had their hands in it.

  “Hey, Ki, can I see you for a moment?”

  Ki didn’t look up from the circuit board he was attaching to some sort of gun that Troy had designed, but nodded his head. “Sure, let me tack this in so that I don’t have to start over.”

  Troy had an earpiece in so that he could listen as the computer was reading off the schematics of the same weapon on which his counterpart was working.

  “Uh oh,” Troy remarked.

  “What?” Leah asked with some anxiety in her voice.

  It would not necessarily be a good thing to hear your weapons expert say those two words.

  “Nothing with what I am doing,” he said with a grin. “I can just hear the tone in your voice.”

  “What tone?”

  “The tone that says, ‘I have to go do something I really am not looking forward to doing, but I am just going to swallow this pill, and do it.’”

  This made Ki look up from what he was doing and over at her. He didn’t know what to say. Even though he had never gone before the Council himself, he knew the meaning of the white outfit she was wearing.

  “I see,” is all he said.

  Ki put down his soldering tools, wiped the sweat from his brow, and stood up.

  “I guess you need to give me some marching orders before you go, huh?”

  She nodded. “I also need you or Isaiah to walk me to the Patmos.”

  “Isaiah left about an hour ago after he received a call that I am guessing was from one the members of his church,” Ki answered. “He said it was urgent, something he had to take care of. But I can walk you there.”

  Troy took off his earpiece and sat with his face toward the computer for a second. He was listening to the two talking, and then he turned toward them.

  “Leah, do you mind if I come? I mean . . .” He paused and took a breath. “The Patmos doesn’t get used often, and I have heard that there are times when . . .” He stopped again.

  Even though he was able to see the spiritual realm, it was not always very clear; to Troy it was as if he was looking through a screen door at times. He looked up at Leah, knowing good and well that she knew what he wasn’t saying.

  “Troy, I don’t mind.”

  That was it? She knew what he was hoping for inside. She had heard the stories of healing flowing out of a Patmos, but she didn’t even hesitate. Then she spoke again.

  “Troy, don’t forget it is not a magic charm. Healing happens anywhere if it is Jah’s will. It doesn’t matter if you are near a Patmos or not.”

  “Yeah, I know, Leah. I just thought . . .”

  “I said that I don’t mind.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The trio left the arsenal field and headed through a maze of hallways and walkways toward the center of the Sanctum. As they walked, Leah laid out what she expected from Ki as second in command while she was gone. She didn’t know how long it would be or even the outcome, but she wanted him to be prepared for anything.

  They came to a strong, metal door that was not only guarded by Alliance members, but also by a state-of-the-art security system with a spiritual grid surrounding it. This ensured that not even a supernatural force could go in or out without being allowed through this door. Leah motioned for Ki to type in his part of the security code, and then she completed it. It was always split. It required a beginning and an ending, and no one person knew both parts of the security lock.

  The door opened with a swish, and it revealed what, to most, would seem to be a meditation room. It was in very stark contrast to the metallic techie world that made up the rest of the Sanctum. The walls were painted in abstract murals of angels, columns, and rays of light. The coloring was very mellow, and the painting seemed to come to life in a circular dance around the room by the hundreds of flickering candles. There were several small incense pots around the room that were kept continually smoldering, filling the round room with the smell of myrrh and frankincense. The ventilation allowed the fragrance to linger, while circulating the smoke out. Melodic chanting in all forms of languages, ancient and new, seemed to swirl around, piped in from unseen speakers.

  This was a Patmos. It was so named after the island where the Watcher, the Apostle John, was taken out of the mortal realm to the Council of Shammah. Ages before, only a short time after the War of the Serpents, nine portals had been built throughout the planet. Each portal had been constructed according to specific instructions from Nunme, the Angel of Design; and each was a gateway, a portal of sorts, called a Patmos, which allowed any who entered to be transported from the mortal realm into the immortal realm of Scintillantes. Differing in outward appearance, the core within each Patmos was the same, housing a white, cubical altar in the center of the room from which emanated a shaft of light, which rose to the ceiling above.

  Just as an audience with the Arch Council had its rules and ceremonial regulations, entering a Patmos, likewise, had its own set of rules. One could never enter into a Patmos alone, for it always required a partner to stay within the walls of this circular room, dwelling mentally upon the essence of Jah and lifting up in spirit worship to Him. Once an individual had actually gone through a Patmos portal to the immortal realm, a request for the safe return of that individual must be spoken by the partner before that partner could leave the room back to the mortal realm.

  Troy was breathless. He had never anticipated a Patmos to grab him at the very core of his being and lift him up in the way it did. It was as if there was no care in the world and that all the answers were right there surrounding him. His spiritual sight allowed him to watch as Ki took a spot near the altar and light and knelt down with his hands stretched upward, inwardly lifting up worship to Jah. Outwardly, Ki began to speak in a language that Troy could not understand, but yet it blended with the words coming through the hidden speakers. Even though Troy could not understand it, he found it encouraging and challenging simultaneously. It was as if a warrior was awakened inside of him, yet as though a child was laughing. He knelt down opposite Ki and simply began to allow himself to dwell upon what he knew about Jah and what Jah meant to him.

  Leah stopped for a moment and just took in her surroundings. She then pulled the white hood up over her hair and made sure the bottom of the hoodie was covering her black belt. Was she ready for this? It really didn’t matter, did it? No, it was absolutely necessary. She took a look at her two companions and then made her way toward the cubical altar within the center of the circular room. She paused and then stepped into the center of the shaft of light. Time had no effect past a Patmos. Upon entering the shaft of light, Leah was transported outside of time and into the beyond.

  Leah found herself standing in the Hall of Heroes. Leah wasn’t sure why it was designed for a Patmos to t
ake individuals directly to the Hall of Heroes before entering “the other side.” The architecture was large and spacious, very similar to old cathedrals on Earth, but a lot lighter and brighter than the dark gloom of its Earthly counterparts. This hall, to many, was awe-inspiring, consisting of an airy, circular center, the ceiling of which was domed in glass. The hall was constructed of white marble walls; the floor was of the most colorful stone, swirled with pure gold, and was well polished. The clear panes of the center’s ceiling allowed light to cascade down upon a large tree, vibrant in deep green foliage. The tree was the centerpiece around which everything else was built. The tree’s branches were accented with a form of fruit that could not be found upon Earth.

  The center of the Hall of Heroes was similar to the hub on a wagon wheel from which nine “spokes” of the wheel fanned outward as carpeted runways, creating hallways. Each hallway contained murals, busts, statues, and portraits of heroes of the past. The Hall of Heroes was designed in such a way that a portal from the mortal world to the immortal was at the end of each of these hallways.

  Leah rolled her eyes as she stepped out away from the hallway to which she found herself transported. She didn’t mean any disrespect to any of the heroes, mortal and immortal alike, but she just wondered why it was they were memorialized here, and she also didn’t remember the last time someone was added to the hall. What constituted a hero? What choices did they make that others didn’t make every day?

  Leah paused for a second to look at the everlasting tree in the center of the Hall. She had always wanted to climb it. A smile broke across her lips as she thought to herself, “One day . . . one day.” She then walked quickly down the hallway in which the Patmos had deposited her, and, ignoring all the memorials that she had passed so many times before, she made her way to the set of large, clear doors at the end of the hallway and pushed them open.