George smiled. “That is just a legendary title I was given. I am able to train warriors in many forms of weaponry and combat. You will discover this soon enough.”
He handed her the belt and watched as she hooked it around her waist. Smiling, she returned to her place beside her siblings.
“Maggie, please step forward.”
George moved back the cloth some more. When Maggie reached the table, she saw a bow and leather quiver filled with arrows.
“To you has been given this bow,” he said, picking it up, “made from the wood of the Mysteria Tree. This sacred tree is never to be harmed, but just days ago the queen gave her permission for a small sliver of wood to be carved from the trunk and crafted into this bow. Now when you set off on your journey, you will carry with you not just a weapon to bring down evil, but a piece of this most sacred tree. The power of the Mysteria Tree will give you an accuracy you would not have with an ordinary bow. Carry it with pride and honor.”
“I will. I promise. Thank you.”
He handed it to Maggie, along with the quiver filled with arrows. She took the leather strap of the quiver and laid it over her head and across her chest, then returned to her place in line, holding the bow tightly.
George turned his focus to Connor. “Now you, boy, step forward.”
Connor obeyed as George removed the last layer of the cloth, revealing a brilliant sword. George picked it up and slid it out of its scabbard, sending the sharp, razor-like sound of steel sliding against steel reverberating throughout the hollow cavern. The blade was longer than one of Connor’s arms and shone brilliantly in the sunlight falling in from the hole in the roof.
“My origin in your father’s tale goes back many years,” George said, admiring the blade. “I was once a wicked man. So many sins did I commit as I pursued power and wealth, often resorting to violence and exploiting the skills of combat I was blessed with. But grace found me one day as I looked down into the eyes of a young boy, similar in age to you, Connor. I was about to murder his father for a debt he owed me and could not repay, but upon seeing the young boy’s tears, I repented and begged the family’s forgiveness. With my transgressions now illuminated, I knew I had to flee. I climbed onto a ship and offered myself as a servant to the captain, unconcerned with where his destination was, only hoping to run from my past.
“But several days after setting out to sea, a violent storm swept over us and tore our ship apart, plunging every last man to a watery grave. I found a piece of the wreckage and floated for days in the ocean’s tides. I cried for all that I had done, thinking the Giver of All Things had punished these poor men who drowned because of my sins. I was ready to give up any hope of survival when a new ship passed by and brought me aboard. The captain’s name was Kristoff…yes, that Kristoff,” he added, seeing the children’s expressions.
“In addition to a little monkey friend, the great warrior named Michael was with him. I told them my story and cried again about the evil I had done. Michael brought me to my feet and told me my sins were not beyond redeeming, that the Giver of All Things could still use me to bring about good. He ordered Kristoff to return upon the course from which they had come, bringing me to a mountain island they had just left. On the way, he told me the story of the Mysteria Tree and how it had sacrificed itself for the Son of Man. Michael told me too of the tree’s guardian, the queen, and how she was in the process of building up a castle that would be filled with many knights and servants who would help her guard the tree.
“They dropped me on the shoreline and Michael brought me into the caverns of this mountain, which he had hollowed out with his sword as a home for the sacred tree, and created passageways for the queen and her followers. He brought me into this very chamber,” George said, holding up his arms and motioning around them, “and showed me a small sliver of steel, a piece of his sword that had been chipped off while hollowing the mountain. He told me to weld it into a sword of my own, and to use it to serve the queen and the Mysteria Tree. And so this is what I did, and I have been serving the queen ever since by training her knights and combating any evil that comes to her doorstep, trying to right the many wrongs of my past.
“But now I must pass this sword on to you,” he said, handing it to Connor. “You must train with me so that you can take it across the island to end this long war once and for all. It must be you, Connor, who defeats Radicle, for you are the son of your father.”
The boy took the sword, wrapping his hand around the golden grip and holding it up to examine it. The blade was long but light, a deadly combination.
“These are your weapons, children,” George said. “Each of them has a sacred history and a mysterious power that will help you in your battle. Now, let us begin!”
Over the next few hours, the children, who had before then only played with pretend weapons, were taught how to fight with real ones. Several knights brought in targets and lined them up against the wall so that the girls could shoot and throw at them. George first instructed Lucy on how to take her coral knives quickly from her belt sheaths and flip them to hold by their blades, in order to hurl them across the air at the target. Sir George did it all in such a swift motion it seemed only a blink of one’s eyes could pass and he had taken two or three knives and thrown them directly at the center of the target. Lucy wasn’t sure she would ever be as quick and accurate as him, but in time, she got better.
Another target was brought out for Maggie and he instructed her on how to pull the taut string of her bow back and aim her arrows. She, like her younger sister, struggled at first, often missing the target all together. But with George’s help, by the end of the day, she was hitting the bullseye more times than not.
George’s training with Connor was the most intense. They began with the same wooden swords they had used the day prior as the master swordsman taught Connor various defensive and offensive techniques. It was a good thing they were using those wooden swords at first. Connor’s hands got popped several times, and on more than one occasion George sliced at his side. Connor felt that George was being very hard on him, like Daddy often could be when he was teaching him things. But despite his early struggles, by the end of the day, they were using real swords and Connor was holding his own against the master swordsman.
Now I wonder if a certain thought has entered your mind right about now. You might be thinking, “How could these kids do all this? How could they use weapons and be expected to march off across the island and into combat against such cruel and powerful forces?”
These are fair questions, and of course as we already read, the children had considered this as well. But after two days of training with Sir George, they began to realize something the queen had said was proving true. If you recall, she had said that, since children have the strongest imaginations, and since they were now in the Realm of the Imagination, they would have the potential to be stronger, faster, and smarter than usual. The children couldn’t remember her exact words, but she seemed to be indicating strength and wisdom in one’s imagination equaled actual strength and wisdom here in this realm.
And as I said, the children slowly began to see that this was true. As they trained with Sir George, both yesterday on the obstacle course and today with their weapons, they found themselves moving with a swiftness and power usually foreign to them. They could jump higher, run faster, and move with more agility. They became adept at using weapons after only a few hours, and felt a sense of confidence that they would never have back in their own world had they found themselves in a similar situation there.
It took some time for them to trust that they actually possessed these newfound skills, but once they believed, that belief seemed to feed their minds and bodies with courage and confidence. It is a rather difficult thing to explain but I do hope I have helped you understand.
About the time the sun began to set, George led them back onto the balcony to cool off. They walked to the edge and looked across the island.
“You h
ave done well, children,” George said over the crash of the waterfall. “I wish I had more time to train you, but the queen says we do not have such luxuries. Only two days was I given, so tomorrow you will journey down the mountain and into the forest to begin your trek toward our ancient enemy.”
“I know this is ultimately up to me and my sisters,” Connor said, “that we have to do this to save our father, but how are we expected to make this journey across the island on our own? You’ve trained us well, but we need more information on how to get there, what we can expect to encounter along the way, some reconnaissance on the Shadow Army, and most of all, how we are supposed to confront Radicle and bring down the Shadow Tree. I can’t lead my sisters into battle if I don’t feel we have a chance for success.”
“The queen would not send you into the belly of danger without help. She knows your needs better than you do.” George paused and looked out over the island. “She cannot spare her knights. Their numbers have been depleted through their battles with the Shadow Army in recent weeks, and those who remain must stay here to defend her and the Mysteria Tree. But fear not, tomorrow when you enter the trees, someone will be waiting on you.”
16
BACK IN THE GARAGE
Mommy rushed to Daddy’s side after he fell to the ground, nearly dropping baby Mary as she did.
“Are you okay?” she asked as he grabbed either side of his throbbing head.
“I saw her. I saw Lucy lighting the lantern.”
“On the model of the island, or in your head?”
“In my head.”
“Can you still see her?”
Daddy closed his eyes. He shook his head and reopened them. “No, not anymore. But she was there, they all were. Connor and Maggie were right next to her, and…”
“And what?”
“They were with a lady, a beautiful one. I think she was the queen from the story I’ve been telling them.”
“My children are with a queen?”
Daddy attempted to rise to his feet, but stumbled over.
“Just stay down,” she advised. “Take a minute. Let’s figure this out.”
With Mommy’s help, Daddy eased back down on the wet garage floor.
“Okay, tell me what’s going on? How did they get on that island, or…not the island…in your head…or…where are my children exactly?”
“I’m not sure I know.”
“You know more than me!”
Daddy took a deep breath. “I think the children were taken some place new, to a world…not here. They weren’t shrunken down and put on our model of the island, and they’re not inside my head, even though I can see them there sometimes. I think…I think they’re in a new world that I can just see into through my head.”
“How can you see into a different world in your mind?”
“Well, there are parts of us that are connected to other worlds, right? Like our souls, our spirits. Those are connected to a higher realm, and we can discern that realm sometimes in faint ways, in ways we can’t always explain, but ways we know are real. Ya’ know?”
“I guess…but what about this lantern up on the island? That’s not in your head. I saw it on the model of the castle.”
“I think the island, our model of it, it’s just a tangible and physical sign that helps connect us with where they are now. It’s like the link between what’s happening within me and whatever’s happening in the world where the children are. It won’t show us everything, but the flame of that lantern was a sign to let us know they’re there.”
“But how did they get wherever they are?”
“I don’t know that.”
“Well, who took them? I’ll kill them!”
“No, I think someone good took them. That beautiful lady, the queen.”
“Why would someone good take my babies from me?”
“For a good reason, I’m sure, to accomplish something important, something that’s worth the fear and hurt we’re facing now. I think they have a mission.”
“A mission? What kind of mission?”
Daddy looked up to the island, narrowing his eyes on the Shadow Tree. “I don’t know, but I fear its one that will put them in great danger.”
17
STANDING BEFORE THE
MYSTERIA TREE
The children managed little sleep that night. They were already awake and staring up at the ceiling when the sun began to creep in through the windows.
A servant brought breakfast to their room and just as they were through eating it, Anastasia knocked on their door, standing between the two knights who had picked them up in the rowboat several days prior. One held their weapons and the other held a burlap sack.
“Put these on,” said the knight, handing Connor the sack.
The other knight entered the room and placed their weapons on the desk as the children opened the sack and pulled out three sets of clothes and armor. They were all the same but they could tell which one was for each based on the size. The pants were a tight-fit brown material, like athletic spandex, but thicker, enough to protect their skin and keep them warm. They could be pulled and stretched without ripping, sturdy but flexible. A long-sleeve brown shirt made of the same material went over their torso, and across that a green suit of chainmail-like armor made of durable leather went over their chest like a tank top.
They had half expected to be dressed in the same silver armor of the knights, but these suits would clearly serve them better on a long journey through the forest. Being green and brown, they would be camouflaged, and the material was light, allowing for more mobility, yet was thick enough to protect them from the elements or the blades and arrows of the enemy.
The knights and Anastasia waited outside as the children put all this on and secured their weapons. Once they were fully suited up, they looked each other up and down. Though they didn’t say anything, they all knew they were thinking the same thing. How had they come to this point? Just days ago they were innocently playing in their backyard, hiding and running from pretend bad guys; now they were covered in battle suits from head to toe with weapons of war strapped to their bodies, about to set off on a perilous journey and into battle against dark forces they knew they did not yet comprehend.
They walked outside into the hallway. Anastasia, normally so vibrant and friendly, seemed solemn. She forced a nervous smile and said, “Come, Sir George is waiting.”
The children followed her and the two knights through the castle to the long, stone hallway that stretched into the upper part of the Tabernaculum. Sir George was waiting there with a leather pouch strapped across his chest.
Anastasia turned to them. “This is where I leave you. It has been an honor to be your guide throughout the castle these last few days. Be strong and of good courage on your mission.”
She hugged each of them and departed back down the hallway. George began to walk down the spiral path against the mountain wall of the Tabernaculum, led by several armed knights. They reversed their course from where they had climbed this path with Anastasia just days earlier. Cones of sunlight fell over them, pouring in from the holes in the upper crust of the mountain. The children looked at these holes differently now that they knew the story behind them, how Michael had created them with his mighty sword. For that matter, they viewed the Tabernaculum, the mountain, and the entire island differently. All the queen’s revelations about why they had been brought here and what their mission was had changed everything.
Like before, they saw other servants and knights of the queen on the pathway and down other tunnels. Many of them turned to watch the children, their expression bearing much worry, for news had spread that they were departing for the other side of the island.
Down they went, passing by the hollow tunnel that had brought them up from the sea. Since the inner canyon in the mountain got wider as they got lower, each turn of the spiral path took longer than the one before. But after fifteen more minutes, the children finally saw the top of the sacred tree
through the glimmers of sunlight falling from above. At first, they caught only glimpses of lush, green leaves, sparkling as if they were covered in glitter, or as if they were glistening with wetness. But as they kept moving down, their view revealed more and more. Soon they were circling the massive tree and its hundreds of branches full of thick vegetation.
In some ways it looked like any other tree, with a trunk and branches and leaves. Yet in other ways it was like nothing they had ever seen before, so beautiful and full and wildly wonderful to look at. The branches swirled in spiral patterns like a corkscrew, and the bark was as smooth as skin and whiter than snow. The whiteness of the tree brought out the rich green of the foliage so much the leaves seemed to be glowing. But the children knew it did not look like this when it had been a simple olive tree; only after it had sacrificed itself and been resurrected had it taken on this more glorious form.
When they got to the bottom, the tree’s many branches finally stopped, leaving the last twenty feet of the trunk visible. From the trunk, an elaborate design of roots ran atop a large mound of damp dirt. They fell out over the mound, curling down and hanging in the air like braids hanging off a girl’s shoulders. Streams of water flowed from the roots, sprinkling down like little waterfalls into a circular river encompassing the tree’s base. On the south side, an arm of the river broke off from the circle, filling a crisp stream that flowed down a tunnel.
George turned them toward the tree, walking between several knights standing guard on either side of a stone bridge. The bridge arched over the river, bringing them to the base of the Mysteria Tree.
“Put your hand on its trunk,” George instructed. The children hesitated, feeling unworthy to approach the tree. “It’s okay,” he assured. “Go ahead. You are pure enough to approach it.”
A path extended from the end of the bridge right up to the trunk, running through a narrow break in the roots, like the center aisle of a church cutting between the pews. They walked down the path until they reached the trunk. They tilted their heads back, as if standing before a skyscraper, and gazed into the labyrinth of branches and the distant falling sunlight. They placed their hands on the smoothness of the ivory trunk.
The Island of Two Trees Page 9