Stephen walked to the observation room where he grabbed a towel and a bottle of water before sitting. Shannon followed, mirroring his actions.
“I did. Please don’t be mad. I didn’t know it would change you.” He wiped his face with the towel and hung it over his shoulder. “When you asked to experience my gift, I saw why you are so obsessed with being the best. You felt inadequate in some way. It allowed all sorts of mixed feelings, including fear.”
“I’m not afraid of anything,” Shannon snapped.
“You’re not afraid of being unloved . . . ?”
“No! I know Vincent loves me,” she replied.
“. . . by Sam?” Upon completing the question, he felt the hurt wash over her, covering her again.
“He took me in. He’s never acted as though me not having powers bothered him. But I’m his only child. I wanted to be able to continue his legacy.”
“Now you can,” Stephen said, expecting this would help.
Shannon broke out in tears. Her reaction didn’t make sense. She had always wanted abilities. She wanted to carry on Sam’s legacy. The only thing he knew she wanted more than either was Vincent. Then it hit him. The council will likely not approve of their relationship when they learn she awakened.
He allowed himself to feel her emotion. A wave of hurt and despair washed over him. There was fear of losing Vincent, mixed with guilt for enjoying the gift she now had. It all felt more like a curse to her rather than a gift.
Seeing her vulnerable was new to Stephen. Despite her obvious womanly appearance, he had only ever seen her as tough, strong, and confident. In her brokenness, he saw her in a new light. For the first time, he noticed how frail she could be.
“I’m sorry.” Stephen put his arms around her and let her cry.
She looked up at him, wiping the streams from her face. “Can you take it away—the ability? Can you make me normal?”
“It doesn’t work like that. All I did was share some of my hopefulness with you. The ability must have always been there, only hidden by the pressures you put on yourself.” Stephen paused for a moment. Something seemed off. He had a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that he couldn’t shake.
“Shannon, when did you first notice the difference?”
She gathered herself before she began to explain. “After you left my mind, I felt different—energized, in a way. I thought it was just some lingering effect from having shared thoughts with you. As soon as I got back here and started training, I began to suspect what was different. I got short bursts of enhanced speed and power.” She paused for a moment and began to smile again. “Let’s just say that bag you broke was new.” She started to laugh. “But the gift didn’t fully manifest until Charleston, in the park.”
Stephen stood and hastened to the door. “We need to go!”
Stephen bolted down the hall, not looking back. As he turned corners, zipping through Enclave, he felt Shannon on his heels, her emotions swelling as she realized where they were heading and why.
He slowed as they neared the council chambers. No guards. The council members were out. The two entered the chambers and made their way into the private room where the scrolls were kept. In the center was the Scroll of Awakening, which illuminated the room in a blue hue. They looked. Her name was not on it.
Confused, Stephen pointed toward the shelves on the walls. “We need to make sure you aren’t on any of the scrolls of new Mighty to be reviewed by the council.”
The two searched and found the individual names of those to be reviewed hidden inside a large chest on the bottom shelf. Her name wasn’t among them either, leaving only one place to check. They hurried back out into the council chambers and searched the wall behind the council, where every name of the living Mighty stayed until they either had been determined to be Fallen, or passed into new life. They searched the most recent names.
“I’m not here,” Shannon declared. “What does that mean?”
Stephen shrugged. “For now, at least, I think it means life as usual. No powers. Tell no one.”
She didn’t argue, but remained silent and nodded. The two left the council chambers and separated back to their own quarters.
Stephen’s time of relaxing and focusing on only training were gone. This new problem made his mind wander back to the old ones too. Bernard, Anthony, and now Shannon. Shannon was different. Shannon was his fault. He didn’t just feel responsible. He was. To top it all off, he realized that the energy the trainers had perceived as the start of a triune was actually Shannon’s awakening. Stephen walked away certain that he was not bonding with Alistair and Vincent to form a triune, which presented a new problem. He had to play along. Besides, even if the elders—teachers and council members—knew about Shannon, they may still want Stephen, Vincent, and Alistair to work together. No one could deny there was a connection between Alistair and Vincent.
All Stephen could do was be patient and wait.
Chapter 15
Over the next few months, Stephen, Vincent, and Alistair trained even more. Most of the training continued to be individual training time. Each instructor insisted that the three were making good progress, individually and together. Stephen knew this wasn’t completely true, but still said nothing. The team, including Shannon and Rex, carried on with missions, attempts at uncovering more about Vincent’s father, Anthony, as well as Bernard. However, both men seemed to have fallen off the map. And still no one had made any additional leads concerning the whereabouts of Elizabeth.
Still, Stephen knew something had to give soon. More and more Mighty were disappearing.
In private, Stephen worked with Shannon to hone and strengthen her abilities. Only Vincent and Patty knew about her gift. No one else, not even Alistair. They didn’t want to ask the Scotsman to keep secrets from the council and his father, Charles.
As Memorial Day approached, Stephen found himself thinking of Waltz more than ever. There were so many moments the two of them should have shared: Stephen’s training in Enclave, walking together through the trove, Stephen’s anxiousness to ask Patty to marry him, and more. But the two wouldn’t share in anything again until Stephen joined Waltz on the other side in the second life.
However, Stephen had learned that it was once custom of the Mighty, for the family and closest friends, to revisit the graveside a year after the burial. There, they would each share a story in fond memory of their beloved, showing that the Mighty would never forget another Mighty.
Stephen strolled through the cemetery back in St. Louis, Patty’s hand in his. The weather was much like it had been at Waltz’s funeral. The sun shone brightly, giving its warmth to all present. The birds sang their chipper songs. The luscious green grass softened each step, as though Stephen’s feet never fully touched the ground. Flowers of various colors adorned graves and decorated walkways.
The primary difference was Stephen. He felt much happier now, finally at peace. He did miss Waltz, but he had finally found his place in the world. The answers to his questions of family and heritage had been answered. And he had come to terms with feeling like a monster. Now, he worked to be a decent person who wanted to do better. Be better.
Being around other Mighty helped him discover the true reason he had felt like a monster before. It was the choices he had made, the control he had exerted over others. It was the death of Tommy, a boy Stephen had once used hoping to do good, only to end in tragedy. He had, however, seen many monsters in his life. All of whom were people.
He stopped near the top of the hill. Everyone else had been waiting. He looked around at the familiar faces—all Mighty who had attended the funeral were present: Sam, Anastasia, the brothers—Adelmo and Derrick, and Alistair. All except Uncle Bernie, who sat in a lonely cell in the catacombs. Vincent and Patty stood on either side of him. Shannon stood next to Vincent and Rex next to Shannon. Alistair took his place on the other side of Patty. Additionally, Joe and Jax were present, as well as Colvin, Aidan, Cassandra, and Pastor Buchanan,
the David.
Stephen had asked that Uncle Bernie be allowed to come. The council had considered it given Bernie’s past service and the circumstances surrounding Bernie’s arrest. The council agreed that Bernie would be given an opportunity to show that he remained loyal to Mighty, but would not yet allow Bernie to leave his cell. Stephen understood and respected their decision, sensing that they were as torn as he was. Bernie, much like Waltz, had been loved by many for his contributions as Mighty.
He looked around the group, happy to see each one. A cool breeze picked up, which seemed to give him the breath he needed to begin.
“Thank you for coming. I know this is a tradition that hasn’t been practiced in a long time, but I thought it would be nice to remember him this way.
“Waltz never cared much for tradition, at least not when I was growing up. In fact, he seemed to hate it. Instead, he told me to focus on relationships. Waltz felt that traditions formed out of relationships, but when the focus became the tradition and not the relationship, things needed to change. That’s why I wanted you to join me, not out of tradition, but to share in your relationship to Waltz.”
As he thought about his next words, he couldn’t help but smile. It felt good to be here. More than that, he felt the same sentiment grow in each one there. They each had known Waltz in their own way. Each had a story to tell.
“When I came to live with Waltz, I was angry. I didn’t know then that he was my dad, and Mom had just passed. I stayed withdrawn. Uncle Bernie probably saw just how deep my anger went, since he’s a seer.
“One day, after church, he asked me to join him in the backyard. We had an old shed there that needed a lot of work. He handed me a five-pound sledge and asked if I’d like to tear it down with him. I looked at the building for moment, contemplating it. Then, I walked up and started slinging the hammer.
“At first, I could barely control it, which made me angrier. I must have looked pretty wild, because Waltz stood back and watched. I couldn’t believe he trusted me with a sledge hammer.”
A jeer came from his right. “I still wouldn’t trust you with one, mukker.”
Everyone looked at the blond Scotsman and chuckled. “I got tired but never stopped. Waltz started pulling pieces away to carry to a dumpster in the driveway. After a few hours, the shed was leveled. Only the concrete slab remained. Waltz sat down beside me and said, ‘Sometimes, we need to tear things down to build them back up. We have a strong foundation that will do nicely.’”
Stephen looked at the grave for a moment, then smiled remembering the moment. “Now, I know that he wasn’t talking only about the building. He was talking about the walls I had put up when Mom died. It wasn’t until after he passed that I realized just how strong the foundation of our relationship was.”
I think of you everyday, Dad. I miss you. Calling him “Dad,” even in his mind, felt foreign. He had always called him Waltz. Still, Waltz was his dad and earned the title many times over.
Stephen placed a single rose on the ground in front of Waltz’s headstone, signifying the end of his memory.
Vincent stepped forward, his face showing his best attempt at a smile. “My favorite memory of Waltz is the day he helped me to move into my new office.”
As Vincent continued to talk, Stephen looked around at everyone. He felt emotions that didn’t belong. He started sensing anger, hatred, and betrayal. Cold and darkness seemed to ride in on the breeze as the scattered treetops moved with the wind. He searched each person, but the shift in emotions wasn’t coming from any of them.
He walked away from the circle and up the hill. Behind him, the others watched him.
“Stephen?” Patty walked to him.
He waved his hand at her, indicating that she stay as he continued up the hill. She didn’t listen. And his simple action stirred the others, as they closed in on him as he stopped at the top of the hill.
Limbs from a nearby tree whipped forward and grabbed Patty. Stephen pulled at the branches, frantic to set her free. A couple blades sliced downward, pruning the limbs from the tree. The branches fell to the ground at Patty’s feet.
“Fallen,” Pastor Buchanan shouted as he wiped his daggers clean on his pants.
The others had topped the hill and stood alongside him. Stephen looked to Pastor Buchanan.
“I hope you’re ready, Stephen,” Pastor Buchanan said, winking at him.
A red mist appeared in front of them and was carried away with the breeze, leaving behind people cloaked in black hoods. Stephen noticed they were wearing their dark robes, meaning this was an official, organized mission.
Pastor Buchanan looked Stephen in the eyes. “This is a declaration of war. They’ve been waiting for us.”
Stephen watched as he witnessed the confident and bold side of Pastor Buchanan that he had only seen once before.
“Alistair, you and your team to the right. Sam, Anastasia, take the brothers with you to the left. Colvin, Aidan, and Cassandra will take center.” Gripping the handles of his daggers tight, the blades curved around the outside of his knuckles. “Patty—” He nodded at her. “You stay close to me and stay away from the trees.”
“Jax and I will join the center,” Joe said.
“No. Jax should stay close to me.” Pastor Buchanan looked at the teen, who only frowned and nodded. There seemed to be a silent exchange between them, which Stephen understood to be Pastor Buchanan simply wanting to protect the young man.
Within moments, the battle was underway. Stephen’s eyes searched the hoods, hoping to see Bernard. There were at least two Fallen to each Mighty. They were all skilled fighters, but only a few seemed to have any notable supernatural ability.
Stephen ran to engage with what he discovered were a warrior and a simple soldier with no abilities. Knocking the soldier to the ground, he turned his attention to the warrior. That was when it hit him . . . the nausea. He vomited and fell to one knee, ducking the warrior’s blow, then rolling away. He vomited again. Looking up, he saw her and immediately recognized her as once having been Mighty. He grabbed the warrior and slung him into the girl, knocking her to the ground. How could she betray them?
He screamed a battle cry as he vaulted through the air, landing on top of them. Blow after blow, he continued to scream as he beat the warrior into submission and unconsciousness. He grabbed the once Mighty, as the warrior’s blood dripped from his hands, and slammed her into a large crypt. She fell limp.
He looked back to the group. The three trainers seemed impenetrable. They slashed and diced any that got within reach, while keeping close to the David. When someone did finally get through, the David dispatched his opponent with swift skill. Patty was well guarded.
Sam and Anastasia fought as a singular, well-oiled machine. Anastasia used a staff, slinging back and forth, while Sam used only a chain as one might a whip.
Stephen kept an eye on Patty. Colvin and Sam’s groups had formed a wall between Fallen and Pastor Buchanan. Adelmo and Derrick appeared to be fierce warriors, both taking on two at a time. One moved with speed and grace, while the other’s movement were more blunt and direct.
The battle grew. Someone in the distance hurled flames at them. Vincent shielded them well enough, but Stephen sensed it was all Vincent could do to shield them from the flames while also fighting a skilled attacker.
Vincent, I’ll take care of the fire starter. Stephen pushed his thoughts into Vincent’s conscious mind. Hang in there just a moment longer.
“Appreciate that,” Vincent replied.
Stephen grabbed hold of the two men fighting against him and hurled them into two others sprinting toward his team. He tried to lock minds with the fire starter who stood midway down the hill. The stranger was strong-minded enough to resist and threw fire in Stephen’s direction.
A fallen came at him from the side. Stephen grabbed hold of the man’s small shield, ripping it from his forearm, and kicked the man hard enough that bones popped as man was launched several yards downhill.
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Within seconds, Stephen engaged the fire starter, using the shield against the heated assaults. This individual pulled Escrima sticks from his robe. Stephen knew if he could get his hands on him, he could easily end the fight. But the man stayed just out of arm’s length, continually moving down the hill and hurling fire with every chance.
Stephen glanced up the hill, expecting to find more Fallen heading his way. Realizing that no one came, he knew something was off. Fallen had made it clear that he was the target they wanted.
To his side was a tombstone that had a long cross sitting atop it. He snapped the cross free and used it to plow through the man’s defense, knocking the fire starter out cold. Looking back at the tombstone of Robert Roberts, he dropped the cross next to it. “Sorry, Bob Bob.”
He sprinted up the hill. Patty, Jax, Pastor Buchanan, Alistair, Shannon . . . Where was Vincent? He reached the top and spotted a struggle near the bottom of the other side of the hill. Vincent fought against three men. Stephen raced to him, locking onto the three Fallen minds as he went, confusing their vision, making them think they still had hold of Vincent, even after Stephen pulled him free. He watched as the three loaded who they believed was Vincent into the back of a sedan and drove off. Vincent stood next to Stephen, leaning on him for support while Stephen fed the false image into their minds.
When Vincent fell limp, Stephen caught him and eased him to the ground. He didn’t require special abilities to see Vincent was exhausted and beaten to the point of needing medical attention. Stephen turned up the hill to rejoin a waning battle. Before he reached the top, any Fallen who remained conscious were fleeing. Only a few unconscious remained behind.
Stephen looked up at the sound of a small explosion, just in time to see a final fireball disintegrate as it smacked into an invisible barrier. The fire starter turned and ran into the distance. Neither Cassandra, Anastasia, nor Pastor Buchanan has been paying any attention. Vincent wouldn’t have had the strength. So who had shielded him from the blow?
He allowed his mind to reach out, searching for the answer among those present. Turning to his right, he saw Rex glance at him, then quickly turn away. Stephen threw Rex his thoughts. It was you?
Chronicles of Stephen BoxSet Page 43