by Jesse Teller
Drelis took her by the hands and turned her to look her in the eyes. She spoke very slowly and directly, and her words soothed Jocelyn. “I will not let anything happen to you. I am your friend. Your soul bound. I will care for you. Come, as one we cannot be harmed.”
They took hands and together they walked toward the great edifice before them. As they approached, the structure seemed to grow until the size of it could no longer be seen. The top towered overhead, and the edges stretched out until the true magnitude of what they were coming to had no logic or reality anymore. They kept walking until the sun descended and the world grew dark. Below them, lightning rumbled and exploded, illuminating the ground beneath their feet in vivid and terrifying streaks of brilliant light. The ground trembled as the light passed, and Jocelyn shuddered at the pure power of what she was witnessing.
They came to the side of the great steel cube and saw stairs. They began to climb and within moments, grew very tired.
They fought the stairs for an eternity. The darkness left them, and still they climbed. They stopped to rest and fell asleep on a landing. When they woke, the wind screamed around them, and Jocelyn fought back her panic and kept climbing.
They knew fear as they looked out over the yawning drop beside them. They knew exhaustion as they climbed one step after the next. They knew excitement as they neared an undetermined destination they could feel in their bones was growing closer. They kept climbing. They slept when they had to. They walked in darkness and light as the days and nights passed, and they climbed. Always there was the next step. That step promised an end to their climb, an end to their exhaustion, an end to their anticipation as they drew ever closer to their fate.
When they had no more stairs to climb, they dropped before a massive door and collapsed. They slept deep. When they woke, they were no longer weary; they were no longer scared.
From above, they heard a screech and looked up. A massive bird descended from what could have been the top of the cube. It spiraled in the air and drew closer until they could see it was no bird at all, but a great being with wings on its back. The being alighted on the landing before them and folded its wings of pure white on its back.
Its skin was the color of lead. Its eyes rays of pure light. When it spoke, the sound of its voice warmed them and made them feel powerful and small.
“Welcome to The Vault, the very home of the Sentries. We have long awaited you, and we wish to give you entry to the place beyond. First, I will ask your intentions.”
Drelis spoke. “We have come to learn and accept our fate,” she said. “We will face whatever awaits within your Vault.”
“Dear child, I do not wish to hear your motivation. I do not wish to hear your sentiment. Here, only your fears and desires are to be laid plain. Here, only your emotions matter. So, tell me, dear children. What are you feeling?”
“I am awed,” Drelis said. “I feel lucky and feel pure.”
Jocelyn waited, hoping Drelis had been enough to speak for both of them, but the winged man turned to her and nodded.
“You, dear one, what are you feeling?”
“I am feeling awed as well, lucky to be sure, and happy,” Jocelyn said.
The man’s face trembled from pure emotion to troubled. “You see fit to lie to me, young girl. Do not let the gravity of your situation deaden your truth. Tell me of your feelings so that we might proceed.”
“I am scared.” She knew she was weak. She broke into sobs and shook her head. “I know I shouldn’t be. I know you’re an instrument of goodness and light. I can see your purity, but I feel no comfort from it. I do not want to go inside. I do not want to see what lies beyond that door, for I have seen its face before, and I will die if I have to see it again.” Her sobs quaked her body, and she held her head in her hands.
“Dear child, we all, within this Vault, love and cherish you,” the being said. “We would never hurt you, not even the least of us. You have no reason to fear.”
“Can you take my fear away? Can you make me brave?”
“Your emotions are the only true belongings you have. No one can make you feel or not feel. Your thoughts can be manipulated. Your mind toyed with, your body can belong to another, and your future can be stolen from you, but your emotions are yours and yours alone. I would not change a bit of them, even if I had the might to do so. No, dear girl, you will have to face your terror. I can only assure you that it will not enslave you, but empower you. Come now, we will dally no longer. You each have a destiny to fulfill. I will not keep you from it any longer. Your purest intentions have been made clear. You are ready for more.”
The being lifted his arms and the door clunked from within. They heard a great expelling of air and felt a swell of power as the door cracked open and light from within shot out in a fount. The door swung in. They saw the beauty of what lie before them and they both giggled.
*******
They stepped onto silver streets gleaming perfect and cold, and Jocelyn felt a lightening of her heart as she gazed at their beauty. Pedestals and buildings held stone monsters. They were twisted and horned. They were bestial, with horrid visages that roared in silence, snapped claws frozen in place. She stopped and approached one of these.
He stood on a stone pedestal and gripped it tight with a massive claw of carved rock. The fingers were long and ended in curved talons. The head was shaped like a horse with the jaws of a wolf and odd, sunken, penetrating eyes. Its mouth gaped wide with terrible fangs, and its long, sharp tongue lolled perverse and ugly. She giggled and touched its toe.
The monster looked down at her, and for one terrible moment, seemed about to devour her, before its tongue pulled in and its lips curled into a smile.
“What is your name?” she asked.
“I am Bounder,” he said with a voice like crumbling rock. She looked around her, seeing many terrible beasts, most with stone wings.
“You have no wings,” she said.
“I do not need them,” he said. “My legs are mighty, and I am crafty. Why are you not afraid of me, little one?”
She frowned as she realized she did not know.
“It does not matter. I love you very much,” he said.
“You just met me. How could you love me?”
“Love is easy. It is a gift given that needs not be returned to be enjoyed. Take my love with you and I will be blessed,” Bounder said.
“I will,” she said. “Thank you.”
He leaned down and kissed her head with stone lips before gripping his pedestal again and freezing in place.
Everywhere she saw stone beasts, and every one of them watched her as she passed. She felt protected and loved, and knew no fear in their presence.
“They are gargoyles,” Drelis said. “Buildings are carved with their likenesses to ward off bad spirits. I did not know they were real. I did not know they held real power.”
Jocelyn looked up and gasped in awe. “Look at that,” she said, as her eyes adjusted and readjusted to what she saw. The air above them seemed to carry glowing platforms that held massive mansions of light and wisps of air. She stared at level after level of floating brilliance, and felt safe and loved.
“This place is amazing,” she said. “I did not know beauty like this existed.”
She stopped before a different statue, this one of a warrior woman with a crocodile head. The statue came to life and looked at her with old eyes.
“Will you show us the way?” Drelis asked. “We know not where to go, and this place is too big.”
The warrior beast nodded and sheathed her stone sword. She stepped off her pedestal, and joined them.
“You are in the Warrior Square of the Vault. Here rests the great force of good that keeps much of the world safe from darkness. You will choose a guardian to stand for you when you leave this place.”
“I want Bounder,” Jocelyn said.
“And you will have him, Demontser. He will travel with you,” the warrior woman said. She motioned for them t
o move on and they did.
Jocelyn felt a great gust of cold air, and fear rose up within her.
“Where is Bounder? I want Bounder,” Jocelyn said.
“He will follow you and come when you are in danger. Here, you are safe from all harm. Here, he is not needed,” the woman said. Drelis took Jocelyn’s hand, and she hugged her. She kissed Jocelyn’s head and smiled.
“I will not let you be hurt, Jocelyn. I will save you from your fear,” Drelis said. She looked sad, but Jocelyn did not understand why.
They moved closer to the cold air and came upon a great chasm in the center of the street. It was massive and dropped into darkness. Jocelyn peered into it and felt it looking back at her.
“I want to go up there,” Jocelyn said.
“You are the Demontser. Your place is with the Fallen Sentries,” the warrior woman said.
“The evil ones, you want me to go to the evil ones?” Jocelyn drew back, but Drelis pulled her closer.
“There is no evil here. Only pure good. The Fallen are of a different mentality, that is all,” the woman said. She looked at Jocelyn with infinite patience, and she shook her head. “The Fallen believe evil is to be fought through all means, not just the righteous. They are willing to do all and any to bring light to man. The Risen,” the woman motioned to the sky above them and the mansions of light. “The Risen are about justice and truth. They will not soil themselves with darkness of any kind, be it even in the name of good.”
“You want me to go down there?” Jocelyn said. “I want to go to The Risen. I will—” She felt it coming. She screamed. The sound fell ill to the air, and all things shuddered in horror in the face of her panic. She pulled back in terror as a black-clawed hand grasped the lip of the pit. She backed away, and Drelis stepped beside her.
“No. No, my sister, he will not hurt you. He is your god, you his prophet. Demontser is a being of good.” But as he crested the chasm, his yellow eyes drenched in blood red pools glared at her in wrath. She curled, dropped to her side and wept. She called out for Bounder, but he did not come, and she begged for any who would listen to come to her aid.
She gripped tight to Drelis’s arm until her hand ached. She knew she was hurting her friend, but she could not stop herself. Drelis looked at her with pure love and smiled.
“It is okay, Jocelyn,” she said. “Forgive yourself. I knew this was my fate when first we met,” Drelis said. She pried her arm free of Jocelyn’s grip, and turned for the vile little boy and his black, charred skin.
“You will take me,” Drelis said to the boy. “I will serve you faithfully and fearlessly.” Jocelyn heard the boy’s voice in her head, and she opened her mouth to speak his words. Jocelyn stood and turned to Drelis.
“You are not the Demontser,” Jocelyn said in horror with a hideous voice not her own. “You cannot stand in her place. You are the Blesstest, and as such, you belong to her.” The boy pointed with dark claws and Jocelyn looked up to see a beautiful being of yellow glow descending from the mansions above.
Drelis turned to the little boy and shook her head. “I go to you willingly,” Drelis said. “I will be your mouth. I hand my destiny to Jocelyn in love and devotion.”
Jocelyn was crying. She wanted to yell no. She wanted to grab Drelis and run from this place. She wanted to possess the strength to go with the boy and face the darkness below, but she could not do any of these things. She looked at Drelis as Drelis turned to her.
The boy was nearing, but Jocelyn no longer wanted to run. She felt the light from above lowering a being of purity, and an arm wrapped around her. The dark boy gripped Drelis and Jocelyn watched in horror as Drelis’s beautiful golden hair blackened and curled. The pale green eyes grew dark and deep, and the skin that had once held such a lovely tan went pale as milk.
“I’m so sorry,” Jocelyn cried. “I’m so sorry.” And she knew she was stealing Drelis’s life. Her daughter who would change the world. Her life of purity and blessedness. Jocelyn knew her fear had robbed her friend of the light of the Blesstest, and Jocelyn was taking all of it away.
She sobbed in utter dismay as the boy wrapped both hands around her friend and leapt backwards into the pit of darkness and the violent and warring Sentries below.
Jocelyn wept. It was the first time anyone ever wept in The Vault.
It would not be the last.
II
33 Years Before The Escape
Seven-year-old Jocelyn watched in relief as the Gray lifted its leg and drained itself on the tree. She stared at the animal before stepping out of the barrier and into the woods. The wolf looked up at her, and she could feel its love as it loped over to her. She knelt on the sward of the forest and hugged it. She wept on its fur, then stood, scratching its ears.
“Find him, boy,” she whispered. “I need my Steppen.”
The wolf threw its head back and howled. It turned and ran. She followed.
She stepped into his camp and saw him sleeping. His hair was long, unwashed and oily, his face covered in a small beard that looked unintentional, as if it had been grown out of dishevelment. She knelt beside him and touched his face.
His eyes fluttered open, then he stared at her. He whispered, “Thank the Seven,” and wiped a tear from his eye.
“Steppen, I did a bad thing.” She broke into tears.
He sat up and hugged her. She tried to figure out how she was going to tell him about stealing Drelis’s life, about her own fear and its mastery over her, but she could not find the words. She opened her mouth to speak, but he touched her lips with the tips of two fingers.
“It’s okay, Princess,” he whispered. “We will figure it out together.” He carried her to his horse, though the night was still young. He placed her in his saddle, grabbed the reins and walked. He seemed to know she needed time. She needed to figure out how to live now that she was going back to her people.
“I like your golden hair,” he said, after the sun had come up and the light had won the day. The sunlight suffused her with life, and her weariness rubbed off as if by the gust of the gentle breeze. “Your eyes are different, too. May I ask how?”
“I would tell you if I could,” she said, “but there are things I must keep secret.”
“What things can you tell me, Princess?”
“I am not what I was before,” she said. “I can see things. I can hear things. I can do things I never imagined before.”
“Can you show me an example?” he said.
She held her arms into the air and summoned the light given to her by the Blesstest. She felt it surge in her body, and air blew out in all directions. The grasses around them fluttered back, and from the green ground, she saw buds rising. They exploded into petals as the field around them filled with daisies. She smiled at them but felt very little happiness.
Steppen stopped. He looked at the fields around him and shook his head. “How did you do that?” he said, turning around to look at her. He seemed scared, and she smiled at him. She summoned up the face of her goddess.
Shining hair, round face, thin lips and perfect smile. She concentrated on the kindness in the face, in the beauty and power, and tried to wash from her mind the disappointment her goddess had looked at her with when they first met, and her chosen one was stolen from her. Steppen gasped, then smiled, all fear lifting off him like dew in the morning sun.
“What are you going to do with your new powers? What are you going to do now that you had not planned on doing before?”
“I need your help, Steppen. I cannot do this without you.”
*******
She entered the city and people ran before her to tell of her return. As she watched them scramble, she felt the same emptiness that had been with her for the last year. She thought of Drelis, and Jocelyn summoned up strength and tried to keep within her mind what was next for her.
She needed a man, a powerful one, to give her the child that was supposed to be Drelis’s. The great legacy she had stolen from her only friend mu
st be realized.
She had no idea where to find such a man. She concentrated on the streets and the city around her, slowly preparing herself to see her people again. By the time she made it to the first of the ghettos, a crowd had grown. Men, women, and children were reaching up to touch her. The women wept. The kids danced. Men gripped each other in brotherhood and wolves howled. She watched them all and smiled, feeling empty and weary.
Her father shoved men and women aside. He gripped Steppen in a tight hug and whispered to him.
“I cannot,” Steppen said. “Justeant has served you well as War Pack leader. I will not take his place.”
Oa gripped Steppen by the shoulders and shook him. “You will take his position because I have given it to you and I am your king chief.”
Steppen glanced up at Jocelyn and shook his head. He looked back at Oa and stared him in the eye. “Then I am your man no longer. Justeant is your man. But I will not serve you in any way.”
Steppen turned and shoved his way through the crowd as men patted his back. Oa stared after him, furious.
Oa looked up at her, and wept. “Who took you? How were you stolen from me? I will find the man or woman and rip them apart with these hands.” He held his mighty hands in the air. Jocelyn was suddenly very tired.
“I am home now, Father. That is all you need know.”
“I will throw a great feast. I will have all the Sons of the Seven to our home and we will all celebrate your return to us,” he said. Her mother was coming up the streets, and she looked the woman in the eye and smiled.
She wanted to tell her father no, that she would not sit for a great feast, would not be paraded before the Seven, but he was her king chief. His daughter had come home, and he needed to celebrate that. Her father lifted her from her horse and placed her in her mother’s arms. Jocelyn wept.