by Jamie Ott
Jacko got the magnesium block and started shaving it, when a spray of water covered his face and his pile of twigs.
“Look at this!” called Uncle Bally.
He wiped his face in time to see several shiny silver salmon leap out of the water. They landed on the ground with a light thud, and lay motionless.
“Well, I guess we don’t need to worry about fishing.”
He pulled up his line, threw away the kidney and set to fileting.
Jacko still couldn’t use his powers to start fire, but with dry wood, it only took a moment to get blazed.
Dinner was especially enjoyable that evening. The salmon had the taste of the best King variety with the sweetest fatty skin that was too good to throw away.
Every so often the branches wavered, noisily, making them jump.
“What do you suppose that is?” asked Julius, who’d rolled out of his hammock and slammed flat on his face when his tree shivered, and he felt a cold draft pass right through him.
In heaven, it was common that multiple beings shared the same dwelling, though they couldn’t see each other. It was possibly the same situation on the summit.
“No idea,” said Jacko, and rolled over.
Night never came. The sky stayed bright blue over the next eight hours. When they woke, it was to the sound of trembling leaves.
“This is starting to freak me out,” said Uncle Bally.
After breakfast, Jacko told them he was going to the temple.
Uncle Bally looked up from the wood bow he was carving.
“What for? They’re a nasty sort; they don’t like us. You should stay here.”
“I agree with Bally. They’re not gods, they’re occultists. It’s better you stay here. We’re safe; we should stick together.”
“Julius, they’re not occultists. Haven’t you noticed any of the strange things that have happened to you, or to us, in the last few weeks? Think about it. These people are not men, and you and I have things in common with them. That’s why I invited you to come here.”
“You know what? Forget it,” he said, turning back to his bag.
“Okay, don’t believe me, but those dreams you keep having should be your biggest clue that something else is going on here.”
But he ignored him, and continued shuffling through his bag.
Uncle Bally shrugged his shoulders.
“Look, I don’t think you should go back to the temple. Those men looked dangerous. Just like the bible warns of cruel angels, your mother said to beware of cruel gods. I think those who occupy this summit are the sort to avoid.”
“You’re right, Uncle Bally, but they’re not allowed to touch me. It’s been forbidden by the elder gods, so I’ll be fine. Besides, I gotta find my family.”
“They’re not here!” He threw down his knife. “If they were, don’t you think they would have found you? This place isn’t that big!”
“You don’t understand how things work, here, Uncle. Just because you can’t see other beings, doesn’t mean they’re not here. Do you really think the constant quivering of branches and bushes are animals running to hide? They’re not; they’re other things that live here, too.”
Uncle Bally fell silent and went back to whittling his bow.
He rose from his hammock, but before he walked off, said, “Time runs differently in places like this. I could be gone a few hours, or a few days. No matter what, don’t come looking for me. Think of Alice in Wonderland: Wander down the wrong path, and you could end up somewhere else, and unable to get back; bump into the wrong god, and he or she might try to destroy you. They’re indestructible, so you don’t want to go against them. Do as Faunus said: hunt, if you must, but don’t go looking for me, and don’t go looking for trouble.”
Then he left the woods.
Jacko stopped just short of the steps to the temple and waited to see if anyone would try to stop him. When nothing happened, he started his ascent.
Everything was the same as before, except instead of an endless corridor, there was a whirling cloud-tunnel several hundred feet in.
He stopped just inside the hall, turned around and looked for any indication of another route he could take. When he saw none, he kept moving toward the tunnel.
A great distance in, a man appeared, walking toward him. He, like the other men, had long white hair and a beard. Only, he had a serene look on his face. He put up his palm and said, “Stop. This is a temple for the servants of Jupiter. You’re not supposed to be here.”
“I’m not leaving until I see my family. I was told they’re here.”
He stepped out of the tunnel into the hall.
“And it’s true. You’ll see them again, but not now. Go.”
He flicked his arm toward the entrance.
“I’m not going anywhere until you take me to them.”
The white hair god looked like he was about to argue, but then fell silent. His eyes lifted to a spot just above his head. Jacko knew he was probably communicating with someone. Then he said, “I’ve been ordered to take you to them. Come with me.”
Just as the man turned, the tunnel started to spin.
“Don’t be afraid,” he said, and stepped in. “It’s just preparing itself for where we want to go.
Slowly, he put one foot forward, and when he felt it was steady, continued in.
With strides ten times larger than Jacko, the man had already gotten far ahead of him. He ran fast to catch up.
In Silence, they walked for fifteen minutes before he asked, “What is this thing?”
“It’s like a worm hole, only smaller and less harmful.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m a servant of Jupiter. I don’t have a name.”
“How does that work? What if someone has need of you, specifically?”
“We’re all the same.”
“Well, you seem nicer than the others. That’s not the same.”
Then like a fork in the road, so did the tunnel. He followed the man right, and at the end of that tunnel was a double fork; they took the second tunnel to the left.
They fell silent again.
A short while later, a white walled room appeared some feet ahead. It had the same cotton looking substance for walls, like when Jacko was with Aurora.
All was still and there were no furnishings; nothing except limestone statues along the right side.
“Where are we?”
“The stone rooms; as you see, they’re fine. Now, we must go.”
He turned to leave.
“Wait! What are you talking about? Where is my family?”
He extended his arm toward the right side of the room. It took a second for him to realize that each of the stone statues had distinguishable features. They were placed in order from shortest to tallest, beginning with his youngest sister, little Forsi, and ending with the tallest, his brother, Machine. In between, he got choked up at the sight of the others: Grill, Bouncy, Bull, Brain and Truth. All the boys were named after their father, Manlo, but had nicknames that distinguished them according to their characteristics. Then Alica and Bordra, and Dienla and Anle; seeing them that way made him livid.
“What is this?”
His voice echoed off the walls.
“No need to get upset; they’re fine.”
“They’re not fine! You fix them, now!”
“You’re the only exception, and it’s only because of the end of times war; otherwise, we don’t allow humans here, no matter how much godly blood runs in their veins. We could only bring them after stoning them, lest they defile our halls.”
“I don’t understand. Oganat showed them to me; they were playing games, running through gardens and stuff.”
“Yes, but in their minds.”
“I don’t understand why you did this! It’s disgusting!”
“It was done to ensure that you play your part, and so far it’s worked. If we’d left you with them, you’d have gone home and forgotten your role in thi
s war.”
“This isn’t right!”
“Who’re you to tell us what’s right, boy!”
His face marble face turned a violent red, like a mood ring across a shiny surface.
“Send them out into the forest with me, but turn them back, now!”
He took a few steps closer to the tall god.
It made him even crazier, knowing he was unmoved by his anger. The servant didn’t take him seriously. He drew back his fist, but when he extended it, it was into air.
He’d disappeared.
“Jacko,” said a softer voice from behind.
There, with long ringlets, stood Lucem’s mother.
“Aurora, can you fix this?”
“No, I can’t but they’re not dead. Once you’ve played your part, they’ll either be returned to Earth, or sent to the fountain.”
He was about to scream at her, but she said, “Calm yourself. There is nothing you can do about this. You will continue, and if you do well, they’ll be fine.”
“What if I don’t?”
“In the end, you’ll have no choice.”
“Then why do this to them?”
“Because it’s motivated you to work hard, thus far, and it’s prepared you for the final battle. You don’t realize it, but you’ve come very far. You’re stronger than you even realize.”
He breathed heavily.
“What is my part? What do I need to do to get this war over and done?”
“You’ll know when the time is right.”
“I’m sick of hearing that! Why won’t Lucem tell me what it is I’m supposed to do? If it’s so important that I carry out his legacy, why doesn’t he at least talk to me, the way he did the first conjurer?”
“Is that what you think? That you’re fighting for him?”
“Well, that’s what everyone has, basically, said.”
“Lucem comes from me, and it was my legacy he carried out for many millenniums, before the first conjurer. And now, there is you. It’s my legacy that you strive to fulfill, not his.”
Jacko said nothing.
“I started saving the world, and every millennium, he sends forth a piece of his goodness to continue my work. He is my legacy, as are you. We gave this to you – to man – because it’s your home, and you need to fight for it. For some reason, every conjurer – every millennium – has been just as stubborn and reluctant to accept that, just like you’ve been. But we’d rather make you fight then lose this planet to the demons. Can you blame us? Look what they’ve done to this Earth, so far? Red skies, red sulfur rivers, ash instead of earth. No more flowers and no more laughter, only black demons hunting.”
She paused a moment.
“I’m sorry, but you will do as you were meant, and that’s all there is to it. If you care so much, you’ll work hard and fight until you’ve either won, or you’re dead, as a real warrior and a real hero, would do.”
Jacko had never felt such a strong mix of emotions. Humbled and on the verge of tears, hatred for Aurora and Lucem, yet understanding and acceptance of what he must do. Desperation that he must save his family now, yet knowing he must obey the gods and wait. It was all too much.
“You’re the symbol of the ending of an era, and the beginning of a new. I’m the dawn, and I’m with you always, changing the future, lighting the way.”
“Where’s my father - Manlo, and Althenio?”
“Althenio raised Manlo from a boy, two centuries ago. He’s the one who took Manlo to heaven.”
“He left his children and went to heaven? I don’t believe it.”
“Manlo understands you cannot disobey the gods. It’s what we want, and that’s all there is to it. The only reason he got to go is because Althenio has special rank.”
The more she spoke, the angrier he got.
“I need to get out of here?”
“This way.”
She stepped into the tunnel; Jacko followed.
“If our side wins, will everything return to normal? All the land and animals, and everything that died, will it all go back to the way it was before?”
“Most everything will, but there will be some things that are just lost.”
“Like what?”
“Any animal – human or otherwise - that didn’t die at the hands of a demon or god will likely return to the fountain. Those killed by one of us will return to Earth.”
“Where’s Lucem?”
“I don’t know.”
Up ahead, the columns of the temple came into sight. Lining the hall was hundreds of white haired men in robes, all bowing and kneeling. Their actions reminded Jacko that Aurora, too, was an elder.
They stepped out of the tunnel and into the hall.
“Will I see you again?”
The faintest smile pulled the corner of her radiant mouth.
“Yes, but not in this lifetime. However, you’ll feel me with you always. I’ll never abandon you, spiritually, and I’ll be watching you from the stars, so will Lucem.”
And then she disappeared. The tunnel vanished, too.
The gods remained in bowed positions as he exited the hall.
~~~
Back at camp, Uncle Bally, who was not normally an affectionate kind, was overly joyed to see him back.
He jumped up and pulled him into a death embrace. When Jacko’s eyes started rolling into his head, he let him up and told him he’d been gone about 48 hours: that despite Jacko’s warning, he’d been worried ill.
To him, it felt more like a few hours.
Larry and Joe whizzed around him, pelting chestnuts at his head. He supposed that was their way of saying they were happy to see him. When they got him right between the eyes, he shouted, “Stop it, now!”
Julius, on the other hand, had a strange look about him. There was a deep cut on his cheek that hadn’t fully scabbed over.
“Hi, Julius.”
But he remained silent.
“What happened to your cheek?”
He looked away.
“You hungry?”
Uncle Bally picked up a basket of cherries and handed it to him.
“I’m starving and exhausted!”
“Well, lay back and nap. I was just about to pluck this peacock. Julius, get the fire going.”
As he went to get some wood from the pile, Jacko was flashed in the eye by a glint that came from something shiny poking out of the collar of his shirt. Whatever it was, it was a deep, dark green color.
“What’s that around your neck?”
“Nothing. Something my mother gave me,” he mumbled.
“So did you find your brothers and sisters?”
“Yes, sort of. I’d rather not talk about it.”
He gave his uncle a look that said “later.”
“Okay, some other time.”
The next day, Jacko went looking for bird eggs when he spotted some paw prints in the bushes and decided to go hunting.
“Great idea, kid! Hopefully, we’ll be eating juicy suckling pig or even chewy gamy venison. You know, I’m gonna come with you. You couldn’t tell what kind of prints they were, and I’m sick of fowl!”
Jacko picked up his bow and arrows while Uncle Bally grabbed his rifle. Julius barely said goodbye to them, as they left.
“What’s wrong with Julius?”
“He had another dream. Neither his mother nor his brother survived.”
“What?”
“She found his brother, but then there was a tsunami: they drowned.”
“That’s awful,” he said, remembering what Aurora told him.
He pointed to the bushes where he found the paw prints.
Uncle Bally knelt.
“What do you think?”
“Well, it’s probably a young one, but I think it’s a deer! Judging by the moisture in the print, and how everything else is dry, I’m guessing it’s a doe. You see, she pees and the buck comes and sniffs. Sometimes, they might repeat this process, and then he’ll track her down. I do
n’t care what, I’m gonna have me some real meat. Since I’m the better hunter, here’s what we’re gonna do: You’re gonna wait there.”
He pointed to a tree several feet across from where they stood.
“I’m gonna track the doe. Stay still and quiet. If the buck or doe comes back, and you get it, we’ll be set.”
Then he walked off along the path while Jacko went to hide in the trees.
He pulled a rock out of the dirt and turned it over to make a flat surface to sit on.
An hour passed.
He’d nodded off.
There was a light crunching noise.
He jolted upright.
As quietly as possible, he rose and walked up to the tree trunk: it was the buck. He launched an arrow on his bow and took aim, but he didn’t release.
The buck seemed to be looking right at him. For a moment, he felt as if it knew him, and wanted to talk.
The animal drew closer, its head crooked upward, keeping its shiny black eye on him. Then a terrible hacking noise came from it; its mouth contorted as the sounds bellowed out. The sound was like the time his dog threw up grass in the living room, but not before heaving loudly for a few minutes.
Frightened, Jacko took a step back.
Suddenly, it bent its head down to the ground, still hacking, and a little thud noise sounded.
The deer bounced off into the bushes.
He didn’t bother trying to chase it, for what it left behind had caught his eye.
A matte yellow gold ring lay on the ground. He knelt to get a closer look.
A smooth red jewel shined from the top.
Despite his disgust of what just happened, he picked up the ring and held it close to his eyes. A voice whispered to him; it said, put it on.
The chunky, lightly weighted band fit nicely on his right hand, middle finger. A feeling of confidence and know-how washed over him. It was almost like he could do anything, and learn anything.
Something seemed to move beneath the stone’s surface. A white light within that turned over, repeatedly, sending out beams the way a star or a street lamp does.
He flinched at the sounds of footfalls.
“Jacko?” called Uncle Bally.
He walked into the clearing.
“Look what I got!”
Draped over his shoulder was a nearly grown doe.
“It’s gonna be tender!” He grinned. “What’s that you got on your finger?”