“Let’s cut straight to the point,” Anastasia said. “Patty can come.”
“Really?” Patty and Stephen spoke simultaneously, though Patty appeared more excited.
“Yes. The fact is, she may be in danger. The Fallen want to get to Stephen. Patty, you are a great weakness for him. The Fallen would try to exploit you if they could. The council learned in questioning him that being alone is his greatest fear. Losing you would devastate him. For now, you will be safest with the others.”
“What about training?” The excitement in Patty’s voice sounded childlike.
“I’m sorry. You may learn certain things, but you cannot train.”
“Never? No fighting? Nothing?” she asked.
Anastasia grinned. “That depends on Stephen, in a way.”
“Why me?” Stephen protested.
“Since she was not born one of the Mighty, the only way she can be allowed to train is to marry one.”
Stephen felt the blood leave his head. He became dizzy. He loved Patty but hadn’t yet considered marriage. He felt Patty’s gentle hand on his arm.
“Babe, it’s okay. I’m not there yet either. I’ll be fine with learning. Besides, the business will keep me busy.”
Stephen began to breathe again. His heart slowed, and his temperature returned to normal. “I love you, Patty.”
“I know you do. Just don’t forget it.” She gave him a playful scowl and turned back to Anastasia. “Is there some process I have to go through?”
“No. But there is a downside.” Anastasia’s tone turned somber.
“Downside?” Stephen joined the conversation again.
“Yes. If you two don’t get married—that is, if you break up—Patty’s memories of all she learns in the caverns will be taken from her. It will be as though it never happened. We are unable to take the memories obtained outside. But we are able to track memories of the uninitiated while they are inside and remove them, if needed.”
The three sat in silence for a moment. Stephen understood the reasons. If a normal person ever got in somehow, they’d need a way to keep them from revealing the Mighty. Patty’s silence concerned him most.
“Patty?”
She didn’t acknowledge Stephen. “All my other memories would remain?”
“Yes, all of them. You’ll only forget Enclave—where it is and everything you learned inside. Any trips back home, you’ll remember.”
“How do you do it—take the memories?” she asked.
“We developed technology for Fallen prisoners. We have sometimes removed certain memories and released captives back as spies or to spread false information. Now, we often use it for diplomatic reasons. We have been known to coordinate with authorities. However, it is safest for them not to remember certain details.”
“So, it’s a machine that removes the memories and not someone’s ability?”
“Yes.” Patty looked at Stephen then back to Anastasia. “Okay, I’ll do it. But I’d like for Stephen to do it with his ability, if it ever comes to that.”
Anastasia didn’t answer right away but sat looking at the two for a moment before speaking. “If that time ever comes, I agree to give you the option as to how you want the memories removed. Afterward, we would have to verify that it had been done.”
“Then, I want to go. I want to try to be a part of your world.” She squeezed Stephen’s hand. He squeezed back.
After dinner, Patty grabbed a suitcase from her car. She had already packed her clothes. Stephen threw his clothes in his duffle bag. The three of them took a cab to Fort Belle Fontaine. Alistair and Vincent had already arrived. They were waiting on the steps.
“Two bags, mate?” Alistair laughed. “Ye’re more upkeep than I would have thought.”
“This one’s mine,” Patty said.
“Whoa. What?” Alistair stood to his feet. “She’s coming?”
“I saw this coming a mile away,” Vincent said. “It is funny, however, that you did not.”
“Really?” Stephen walked over to give Vincent a hug and whispered, “You should have given me a heads up, then.”
Vincent patted him on the back and smiled. “Not a chance.”
“She can’t bloody come with us. She’s not one of the Mighty.”
“I can and I will,” Patty told him.
“Do you know what will happen if you two don’t work out? It’s not a vacation spot,” Alistair said.
“They’ll take my memories,” Patty replied.
“Anastasia told ye?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Anastasia demanded of Alistair.
“I just figured she wouldn’t be going if she knew.” Alistair replied, backing away slowly.
Stephen couldn’t help but notice that Alistair was more upset than he had been himself. He didn’t need abilities to know what that was about. “Who was she?”
Alistair’s shoulders drooped and his head hung. “Victoria. We were engaged. She got down there and . . .” He shook it off. “Let’s just say she couldn’t handle what she learned. I’m sorry, Patty. Ye’re a fair bit tougher than she was. Ye’ll be fine, right at home, I imagine.”
“Thanks.” Patty hugged him.
The five of them walked up the stairs together, disappearing into the mist.
Epilogue
It had been twelve months to the day since Stephen last visited Waltz’s grave with Patty. He knelt alone as fresh fallen leaves blew by on the cooler wind. He didn’t look the same. His hair had grown longer. The neatly trimmed stubble gave him a more mature look. He no longer looked like a young man trying to find his place in the world. Instead, he wore the ceremonial dress garb of the Mighty.
“I hope you’re proud of me. It’s not what I thought it would be. I had expected excitement, battles, constant action. But I’m finally beginning to understand what you told me when we first started training. Being one of the Mighty isn’t about saving the world in grand gestures. It’s about helping people to be saved. Sometimes that means physically fighting the Fallen in face-to-face conflict. Most of the time, it means being there for others, making a difference in everyday life for everyday people.”
Stephen stood and looked around. He saw only one other person, just down the hill. He listened to the man’s thoughts.
I’m sorry. I just don’t know what to do anymore. I’ve tried everything.
Stephen turned back toward the grave.
“It’s been good talking to you, Dad. I’ve got to go to work.”
Stephen walked down the hill to where the man stood and waited to be noticed by him. The man’s head hung low. After a moment, he looked up.
“Did you know my brother?” the man asked.
“No, I didn’t. Sorry,” Stephen replied.
“Oh.” The man paused for moment before becoming embarrassed. “I apologize, but should I know you?”
“Sorry, no. I just recognized you from the funeral.”
The man looked confused.
“My dad was buried up the hill the same day as your brother. I remember seeing you. I know your pastor though, Pastor Buchanan. He’s a good man.” Stephen smiled warmly at him.
“Y-yeah, he is. He’s a really good man.”
“Listen, I know it’s none of my business. But have you ever had something that you knew you had to do, although you weren’t sure why or even how it would turn out in the end?”
The man’s eyes appeared to soften. “It’s funny you ask that. My life has seemed like a series of those types of events lately. Why do you ask?”
“Because I’m supposed to tell you that I’m here to listen if you need to talk.”
“I’m usually a private person. But . . .” The man looked back down at the grave and then around the cemetery before continuing. He sighed. “I’ve been trying to change my life. I learned some time ago that the people in my life don’t think very highly of me. I’ve been trying to change the way they see me. I don’t want something horrible as my epitaph.”
“Hm
m.” Stephen thought for a moment. He listened to the man’s thoughts and dug deep. What he saw amazed him. Tom had been wrestling with his own personal angels and demons. “Tom, don’t try to change other people’s opinions. You can’t. Don’t worry about what others think of you. It doesn’t matter. Just focus on each day and the person you want to be that day. Any more than that can be overwhelming. When it becomes too much to bear, and it will, give it to God. He will gladly take it from you.”
“That sounds like good advice.” Tom smiled. “Thank you.”
“And, if I may offer one more word of advice, love God first, then love others. It may seem silly, but trying to change the way others think of you sounds selfish—not that you mean to be. Instead, if you focus on being kind to others and ask what their needs are, I suspect everything else will fall into place.”
“Yeah, I suppose.”
Stephen turned to walk away.
“Wait,” Tom yelled. “How did you know my name? Are you an angel too?”
“No,” Stephen called back as he continued walking. “I’m just a man who is running late for a wedding.”
Coming Next
TRIALS OF THE MIGHTY
Chronicles of Stephen Book 2
Chapter 1
Stephen walked down the corridor located beneath the streets of Washington DC, eager to begin combat training. Fragments of history, rules and regulations, and structure of the Mighty continued to swim around in his head. He hoped a demanding workout would help clear his mind. Since he made his choice to service as Mighty, a soldier of God in the fight against Fallen, he hadn’t seen any fighting at all, much less had the opportunity to engage in combat.
A group of teenagers passed by as he neared the training wing, which did little to detract from the humbling knowledge that all the other students, apart from Vincent, were much younger than him. It didn’t bother him too much. Still, fitting in and finding his rhythm had been harder than he had expected. He was so distracted: by his much younger classmates, Waltz’s death, Bernie’s imprisonment, Bernard’s whereabouts, and even his relationship with Patty. He found it hard to stay focused, especially because he was the one responsible for the fate of the human race. What did they expect him to do? How could he defeat Fallen when he hadn’t even been able to save Waltz?
“Hey! Stephen!”
Stephen turned around at the sound of the familiar voice. Edge, a lanky man about Stephen’s age, stepped from a room into the hall, wearing his usual gold-colored uniform, which signified warrior class. Stephen waited for his history teacher and friend to catch up.
“Hey, Edge. How’s it going?”
“I can’t complain. I saw you walk by and thought I’d take the opportunity to catch up some. I mean, you and Vincent don’t really have downtime, having to double up on normal class time.”
“Yeah, I guess so. We don’t have the luxury of time that our younger counterparts do.” Stephen nodded toward the next group of kids walking by. A taller teen with dark skin waved at him. He waved back.
“I’ve been wondering how you feel about everything.” Edge shifted his dark, shaggy hair out of his eyes as they continued walking toward the training room. “I know you’re barely getting to some of the more exciting stuff, combat and ability training, but how’s everything going?”
“Let’s see.” Stephen grinned. “I’ve been underneath DC here in Enclave for the past six weeks. I know almost no one, except for Patty and Vincent. I’m still getting use to the idea that I’m a descendant of King David’s mighty men from the Old Testament. My best friend from childhood is now a Fallen . . .” Stephen sighed and scanned the area. “There is a bright spot in all this. I look around, and even though he’s gone, I feel closer to Waltz. I know him better now than I ever did while he was alive.”
“How’s your girlfriend doing?”
“She’s good. I was concerned she might not fit in. At the moment, she seems to be fitting in better than me. She spends hours in the library reading up on Mighty history. They let her take a couple classes. She’s soaking it all in. And Pastor Buchanan has gone out of his way to make her feel welcome. Considering he’s the David and all, it says a lot about how much you all care for each other.”
“But?” Edge said.
“I really like her. What if she decides she can’t handle all this? It’s kind of a big deal.”
“I see your point.” Edge nodded. “How’s Vincent?”
“He’s better. In fact, he should have started his combat training this morning too. But I think he’s adjusting well. I have, too, honestly.” Stephen smiled.
A group of preteen girls giggled as they walked past the two men.
“Although I sometimes feel silly sharing classes with kids. Well, I guess the older teenagers aren’t so bad. I connect better with them.” He thought for moment. “Eh. Really, they’re all great kids. They grow on you. Everyone else has been nice enough. Most are inquisitive, but not too intrusive. I still find it hard to concentrate knowing what all’s out there.”
“Yeah, I bet. The kids don’t really understand that yet.”
“That’s a good thing. They still get to be kids.”
Edge was just as friendly and personable in class as he had been when they met, just before Stephen and Vincent went before the council to learn their fates. “Hey, Edge. When we first met, you were so certain that I’d be Mighty, as though you knew. The council tried to keep me out. It was tie vote. I mean, it was a real possibility that I wouldn’t, right?”
Edge nodded.
“Did you know something the others didn’t?”
Edge stopped in the hall. “You don’t know?”
“Know what?” He knew Edge had warrior abilities, so it couldn’t have anything to do with powers. He shrugged.
“I thought someone would have told you.”
“Vincent and I haven’t really had time to talk with anyone outside of class, other than Patty and a few other students.”
Edge started walking again. “My last name’s Buchanan. The David is my pap.”
Stephen stopped walking. He had known there was something familiar about Edge. Now he could see the resemblance. “Pastor Buchanan . . . is your grandfather,” Stephen said aloud, as if saying it made more sense than hearing it.
Edge smiled and started walking again. “Yep. But I don’t flaunt it. We’ve been really close since Dad passed several years back—”
Stephen interrupted. “Fallen?”
“No. Cancer. Anyway, he sometimes tells me stuff that I have to keep quiet. But I figured a little reassurance wouldn’t hurt.”
Stephen stopped at a door on the right. “So, you knew all along that the David would welcome me as Mighty?”
“I had just heard from him that morning. I rushed down to meet you and Vincent. Pap says you’re more special than you realize.”
“I should probably speak with him again.”
Edge patted him on the shoulder. “You will, when the time is right.”
Stephen nodded to the door. “Well, this is me. I know you’re the history teacher, so I mean no offense. But I’m glad I can finally start some real training. I’ve been cramming so much information about Mighty and Fallen, I need this break—this release. It’s been all study and no fun. This should help get me energized again.”
“Combat training, huh?” Edge grinned.
“Yeah, Vincent should be in there now. I thought I’d stop in a little early to catch the end of his session.” Stephen chuckled, thinking about Vincent trying to fight. “Wanna join me?”
“Nah, I need to go to the library. But let me know how it goes.” He patted Stephen on the back and continued down the hall.
Stephen tapped the emblem of a sword on the wall next to him. The door opened. He walked inside and immediately heard grunting, followed by what sounded to him like pads smacking. He stood in a small observation area. Several feet in front of him, the room opened into a larger, mat-covered training room. Dummies and punchin
g bags lined one wall. Another held various weapons. In the middle, a very tired and sweaty Vincent waved, just as he got clobbered in the head by a smaller Asian man.
Stephen winced as Vincent fell to the floor.
“I think that’s enough.”
Stephen looked around the corner to see Shannon standing just inside the training room.
“Vincent, who were you waving at?” She turned toward Stephen. “Oh.”
Stephen chuckled as Shannon walked out to help the Asian man lift Vincent to his feet.
“Do-Yeong, you were supposed to go easy on him,” she snapped.
“I was. He was doing well until he lost focus.”
“It’s okay, Shannon.” Vincent stood and walked in Stephen’s direction. “Mr. Kim is correct. I should have stayed in the fight.”
Vincent pulled up a chair next to Stephen and took off his gloves, helmet, and chest protector. Stephen looked Vincent over from head to toe. He had never seen Vincent covered in sweat. He noted a small spatter of blood on his red training clothes. The white trim made the blood more obvious. Vincent’s jet-black hair dripped with sweat, as did his neatly trimmed goatee.
“You need to make sure you drink lots of water,” Stephen said.
Vincent nodded toward the far end of the observation area at a gallon jug of water sitting with his walking stick, which Stephen had given him as a gift, and duffel bag.
“Yeah, that should do it.” Stephen chuckled.
Based on Vincent’s labored breathing, the training session looked to be a good cardio workout. But Stephen didn’t expect it to be more than that. His ability to read others’ thoughts had proven to give him an edge in past fights.
Vincent grunted and winced as he continued to take off his sparring equipment. He smelled musty, or perhaps it was the room. “Stephen, I’m Do-Yeong Kim.” The Asian man on the mat, also dressed in red, stepped into the observation room. He looked young, despite his salt-and-pepper hair. “I’m one of the combat instructors.”
Stephen knew little about many of the Mighty at this point, but he knew a red uniform meant Kim was a priest. Reading his mind wouldn’t likely be possible. Stephen shook his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Chronicles of Stephen BoxSet Page 28