by Nathan Parks
Kadar dropped the box without hesitation as he and the other Nephelium did what they did best: kill. The box shattered, and the blood of the eternal votes left a stain upon the carpet.
Adremalech had missed Arioch and now felt Hecate’s blade pierce his side. He pulled back and came down hard upon her head with the butt of the pistol he had used to shoot at Arioch. Hecate was stunned for a moment, and Adremalech fired again. As the bullet left the muzzle, headed for his mark, a Darkin jumped between the projectile and his leader and screamed before the abyss swallowed him. Hecate shoved the body of her bodyguard away and slashed downward at the wrist of the hand that held the gun, causing Adremalech to drop it.
Bodies flew through the air, and many clan members were shot by their own as the room became a mass of confusion and chaos. Kadar held his hand out toward one of his clan members, motioning for him to hand him the voting blade. As his fingers closed around the hilt, he pulled out another blade hidden in his belt. With the agility of a cat, he launched himself across the room, knocking into the fighting Overlords, sending them to the ground. Kadar’s face was smeared with blood, yet his eyes were strong. He was in his element, and the Overlords could see it. First one Overlord, then the other slowly stood up, one to Kadar’s left and one to his right. They dared not move; for once they stood, Kadar stretched out an arm toward each of them, pointing a knife at each throat. Neither Overlord was willing to test the skills of this Assassin nor were they willing to test which of them would be the first to find the blade currently pointed at them imbedded into their throat.
Kadar ordered, “Tell your clans to stand down.”
Neither clan leader would move or utter a word. They wouldn’t be the first to give in to an Outcast. Screams of pain and panic could be heard as the fighting poured out into the floor of the club, and it was escalating. What had only been among the leaders now poured out among Familiars and other clan members who, moments before, had been partying together.
Kadar stood confidently and not budging.
“Let me make myself crystal clear: I am not asking for a truce. No, not at all, because I still have blood I want to see shed, but stand down your clans here and now!”
An explosion which rocked the room where they were standing was heard out in the club, and a new scream caught all of their attention.
“The Alliance!”
Curses could be heard along with screams of agony and flashes of bright light.
During the moments before everything had escalated to utter chaos within the Gathering, Ki and Leah had made their way into the club, searching for any sign of Alfonso. They also were hoping that they would be able to gain some sort of information that would help them be a few steps ahead of the Fallen and whatever they were planning. As they had entered the area of the dance floor, they had felt the hands of someone behind them taking a hold of each of their shoulders. The individual pulled himself up between them so that they could hear him say something in their ear.
“Ok, so maybe you don’t think you can trust me, and maybe you really don’t want anything to do with me. But I do know why you are here, and I can save all of us some time and some headache trying to get out of here.”
Leah didn’t have to turn around, but kept her eyes scanning the crowd. “Isaiah, I never said I didn’t trust you.”
“True, but I know there are questions.”
“You’re right, but it doesn’t mean I don’t trust you. We all have questions, but we haven’t even had a chance to ask you anything.”
Ki laughed without turning. “Ok, so can we have a question-and-answer time somewhere a little more peaceful and focus right now on why we are here?”
“Alfonso?” Isaiah asked.
“Yes. Do you know where he is?” Ki asked.
Isaiah hesitated. There was almost quietness in the midst of the commotion within the club as Leah’s eyes closed in knowledge. A tear silently fell from the corner of her eye and traveled down her cheek as the truth sank in. Isaiah didn’t have to say anything; she could feel his body falter with uncertainty on how to let her know the news. She turned her head slightly to see how Ki was reacting. He was noble. He held true to his Asian heritage and the nobility of those who died as heroes. There were no tears, just a stoic face.
“Don’t ask me anything more right now, please.”
Leah nodded.
“I don’t know where Megan is, though,” he stated. “And Eve . . . she is gone.”
“We have Megan,” Leah responded.
She didn’t offer any more of an explanation other than that. She was more interested in what Isaiah had to say about Eve.
“Where is Eve?” she asked.
“I am not sure, but she has turned.”
Ki turned and looked at Isaiah. “And . . . ?”
Isaiah shook his head. “She is gone. She couldn’t handle what she saw when we discovered Alfonso’s body. The lust for revenge was too much. I tried hard to hold her, but I couldn’t do it.”
There were more gunshots, and then chaos hit the floor from their right. There was no uncertainty, as Leah’s katana was already in her hand and her companions were armed, as well. They stood in a triangle pattern, each of them facing outward. Leah immediately went into her role as leader.
“We can talk about everything else later. Let’s get out of here and let what happens, happen. They watched as the wave of violence roared toward them. Familiars and clan members, fangs bared, had no idea what was taking place, but were caught up in the power frenzy, attacking each other and innocent club goers who had nothing to do with the evil behind the curtains of humanity.
“Leah, there are some innocents here. We have to do something. Let the clans fight, but our job is to protect those who aren’t aligned,” Ki yelled over his shoulder as his arm went up to block an attack from a Hecate member.
“Not here! They chose to be here. Right now our main goal is to get out of this place.”
A creature flew through the air at Leah. She slashed it with her sword, but missed. Its fangs dug into her skin, and immediately Isaiah pummeled it with his fist. The creature let go and fell backwards, its eyes wide in fear as it realized its victim.
“Oh, NO!” Leah yelled, seeing the look of recognition on its face. “We’ve got to go!”
The being was an Imp from the Clan Hecate. Leah had dealt with this creature before, and he recognized her. His mouth opened, and Leah cringed at his revelation, “The Alliance!”
Ki grinned! Oh yeah, here the fun begins! His earpiece crackled a little as a voice spoke to him through it.
“I have Evan’s team standing outside if you need help.” It was Troy.
“Maybe in a minute,” Ki stated. “I want to see how many I can take out before I need help.”
The tide had turned toward the trio. The clans may have erupted on each other, but the one thing they had in common was their hatred for the Alliance. Leah was thinking that wasn’t a good thing for her and her team right now. Leah dropped her katana and grabbed one of the pistols that Isaiah threw to her.
“Let’s go!” he yelled.
Their guns were blazing as they fought their way toward the door. Small bursts of light revealed the Fallen who had met their demise by the trio’s accurate shooting.
They were being swarmed. The fighting was still going strong among the clans, and chaos couldn’t describe the scene that The Vortex had erupted into. The Fallen, in full manifestation, were everywhere. Familiars were being used as fodder to hold back some of the onslaught. They were discovering that their allegiance was nothing more than just a ticket to a gory death.
“Leah, we aren’t going to make it! I am out of ammo.”
She looked back and realized that Isaiah was right. “Where did Troy say Evan’s team is?”
“He didn’t,” Ki shouted over his shoulder. “He just said he had them standing outside.”
“Tell them to get in here!”
Troy heard her through Ki’s mouthpiece, and
that was all he needed.
*****
She was numb. That was it! Numb and shocked. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t scream. Her world had collided with that of a hellish nightmare as everything around her turned into a scene from the most horrific horror movie that she could have imagined. She had been sprayed with the blood of a woman who had been running toward her, looking for help. Her charming, gothic fling for the night had become disfigured into a demonic creature of darkness that had shredded the lady in less than a minute; and then, the creature was attacked himself by a different creature, which came leaping through the air with a screeching yell.
Jackie stumbled backwards until she felt the wall of the club behind her and prayed that she would wake up. Where was Eve? She needed to get out of here. She couldn’t move. She could see the door, but she couldn’t move. She stepped toward the door, but another body fell at her feet. Suddenly, she found her voice! She screamed, and screamed loudly. She felt so vulnerable; she had to do something. She saw movement above her and flinched as she embraced for pain from an attack, but nothing came. She looked up to identify what it was she saw, and she couldn’t take her eyes off the individual who appeared above her on a ledge. He looked down at her and smiled. He smiled! In the middle of all this fighting, blood, screaming, and hell, he smiled. He jumped down from where he had been crouched.
“Follow me. I will get you out of here.”
Jackie had to trust him. Anyone who can smile so confidently and peacefully in the middle of this madness she had to trust. He held a small crossbow in his hand which held some kind of glowing blue, metallic bolts to it. They looked like they were charged with electricity.
“My name is Gideon.”
“Umm . . . I’m Jackie.” She stayed behind him as he slowly moved toward the door, bolts flying. She shrieked when a creature got almost too close to them, but then it vanished in a small explosion of light and ash; the bolt from the bow found its mark.
“First time at The Vortex?”
She almost laughed. His confidence and slight cockiness put her at ease in the middle of all of this. “Uh . . . no, but I would say the last.” She paused. “Could we save the small talk for maybe another time?”
He shrugged as he let another bolt go. “Sure, but it may not be as intense!”
They were near the door when she grabbed onto him like a leech. A burst of light from the door sent Fallen and Familiars scattering from the inside entrance to the club. Evan and four other Alliance members rushed in and created a wall of fire power, spraying into the onslaught.
Evan saw Leah and her counterparts coming his way from his right, and then he saw Gideon and a mortal coming from his left.
“Keep them back, and let’s get these guys outta here,” Evan yelled.
Ki had received several cutting blows from his fighting and was bleeding, but he was still standing and strong. Leah kept herself between her team and most of those pressing in on them.
“Ok, let’s go!” she screamed over the clamor.
The three were behind the wall of power that Evan created and dashed out of the entrance just as Gideon and Jackie reached the same point. Evan’s team backed out, allowing the team to collapse backward, with their leader being the last one out. They were out, and the Clan War was on. There was no doubt that nothing would ever be the same again.
Epilogue
We are all simply separated by a choice, and that choice does not just affect us, but will affect generations to come. The battle lines were drawn; that was clear. The clans were no longer a Family, but a splintered opposition against each other in a bitter battle, not only for humankind, but also for the ultimate power of survival of the strongest.
Kadar and the Nephelium had risen up as a united force with which to be reckoned. No one knew what part he or Eve would play on the game board of prophecy, but it was evident that they would play a role.
As for the Watchers? There was one in the shadows who stood quietly; Alfonso’s legacy had not vanished with the death of this gentle, but strong, man. He had held to his duties with honor and dignity and had ensured that the Brotherhood of the Watchers would be passed on--true, passed on in a way that would be unlike any Watcher before, but still passed on. The Brotherhood still would be there to ensure that generations to come understood the sacrifices that were made in order for humanity to survive, if they survived.
The Alliance, although strong, still had its own splinters to deal with.
Isaiah and Troy had a lot of mending to do and a friendship to rebuild, as well as the rest of the Alliance had many questions that needed to be addressed concerning “the Preacher.”
Leah found herself, along with Evan, standing before the Arch Council addressing where they all would go from here. The Clan War would surely spill into humanity if the Alliance didn’t have a way of holding it back on all fronts, and that was something they weren’t sure if they were prepared for.
Then came the news: the young mortal, Megan, who had been rescued from The Vortex was pregnant--not just pregnant, but held within her body the offspring of a new clan leader. The Alliance realized that if there ever was someone they needed to protect, it was this young lady; and soon only the leadership knew her whereabouts.
The two sat as sentinels, watching over an area of the city to ensure its protection, both still struggling with inward healing toward each other.
“What have we accomplished? How could all of this have been worth any of what we have had to go through? Friendships broken, heroes passed; and after all this sacrifice, Eve is still gone. Was it worth it?” Troy queried.
Troy turned and looked at this man from whom he had felt betrayal, but right now he needed to separate all of that and look at the reality of it all. “You have it all wrong, my friend. It was never about Eve. It was about something bigger. It was about her choice.”
“Her choice,” Troy repeated softly.
“Yes, you know it rarely is ever about the most obvious, and that is why we really can mess things up sometimes. Think about it: it was about her choice. It was planned out that she would come to this point. If she chose to go the way of Jah like her ancestors, then mankind would be safe for awhile; but she chose to turn toward something that isn’t even real. She followed a smooth talker, and now . . . well, now, who knows? I believe this is the start of something even mankind will not survive.”
“Wow, sounds like another Eve--the first one,” Troy offered.
“Yes, her choice affected us all, and this Eve’s choice has set up something that none of us will ever fully understand.”
“Do you think . . .”
“What?”
“Do you think we could have had The Revelations all wrong because of not knowing what was going on throughout the ages behind the spiritual curtain?” Troy wondered aloud.
“I guess time will tell,” Isaiah responded.
It had been raining earlier, but now the dark cover of clouds overhead had given up its last sorrowful droplets of liquid and left, instead, small mirrors for those whose heads hung low enough to look down into them. With all the potholes, the puddles were not hard to find.
This was her city, and Eve loved it. She loved the “caverns and valleys” of it all. To outsiders, it may seem overwhelming; but to those who had been born here, grown up here, and most likely one day would die here, it was home. One carved out their small niche in it all and never worried about the rest.
She stood on the edge of the building, looking down over it. Yes, it was her city, and soon certain individuals in this city would be reminded of her. Of course, they most likely wouldn’t recognize her. She was no longer Eve, an orphan, a victim of circumstance and injustice--no, she was . . . Nephelium.
Appendix
Joan of Arc
In 1412, a daughter was born to Jacques da Arc and Isabelle Vouthon. It seemed just another birth in the peasant farmland of St. Solange; however, the baby girl was more than just another peasant’s daughter.
/> Isabelle Vouthon took her daughter in close and from birth raised her in the ways of Jah, teaching her the importance of faith and devotion. Young Joan soaked in everything that her mother shared with her. Her young mind was inquisitive, and she continually wanted to know more.
Joan’s Father, Jacques da Arc, was a hard-working, but simple, man. He had faith, but his focus was on providing for his family. Deep inside he cursed any supernatural being that would allow such desolation to the land as was his. His body was broken and worn down, but he never complained. He never understood his daughter’s unquenchable desire to know more about the faith that he believed was only used by the rich to hold power over those who had nothing.
His struggle in understanding his daughter’s faith was balanced by the equal desire by young Joan to learn the skills of combat. Within his heart, Joan’s father had always been a warrior and had continually honed his combative skills as he grew into a young man. His birth into a lower class, along with a deformity that caused him to limp, never allowed him the chance to be that warrior; but he willingly shared his knowledge with his daughter.
Young Joan entered into her teen years with knowledge equal to that of many priests and the hunger of a squad of warriors. She was truly the pride and love of both of her parents. As most parents believe about their children, her parents believed she had a great future ahead of her, even though the cards seemed stacked against her.
No one, except for maybe Isabelle, could have known what truly lay ahead, but even Isabelle couldn’t have foreseen the full impact of her daughter’s life. Shortly after Joan’s thirteenth birthday, something happened for the first time of many times to come.
Joan had a habit of rising early and walking a good walk into the village. She would make it into the small, moss-covered, stone chapel. There was one window within the one-room building. The window faced east; and before Joan arrived, the village priest would open it.