Forever Warriors

by M. J. Sewall

  Zacke looked at the sword. “You always walk around with a sword on your back? Don’t the cops stop you?”

  John smiled. “I have been stopped, yes. But I must keep this in plain sight; Concealed weapons are illegal in California.” He tapped the hilt. “Sword on my back, in the open, no problem.”

  Katie added, “Are relics always swords?”

  “Good question.” John put his sword away and they all continued walking down the scenic country path to the old buildings. “Relics can be anything, though they are usually weapons. They can only be made by a powerful elder; someone that gets stronger with each new life. The elders have deep natural talents. When they are re-birthed into new bodies, they activate earlier than most, and they get all their memories and talents back quickly. This is called a true birth. Since they’ve lived longer, they end up in charge. They gather disciples and try to find new recruits. They are usually born with the memories and talents from all their lives. Elders of the Amartus are like a council that guide us to knowledge and wisdom.”

  “What about the other guys, the rageta?” asked Zacke, “is that right?

  “Close, the Rageto. Their elders are schemers, and are always at each other’s throats. They are like warlords; they have their agents and sometimes war on each other. They want control. Always remember, those drawn to the Rageto have only small talents, and must supplement them with magic.”

  “Magic?” Cody sounded skeptical. “Really?”

  Ariana smiled at him, “You can believe all the stuff we can do, but you can’t believe in magic?”

  “I call it magic as a familiar term, but it’s like any of the sciences.” John explained, “Magic has rules. Things that it can do, things that it can’t. But the Rageto always use it for dark things.”

  “Yeah. Their ‘sciencey’ magic can do a lot. We all saw it,” said Katie.

  Zacke asked, “Why are we different? Who decided that? Where is God in all this?” His mind went to his mother, but he shook off the thought.

  “The whys? Well, they’re tricky. We’ve always existed. Some of us actively seek the others out. But eventually we gravitate toward each other. Who decides it? There are a lot of theories and philosophies about it in our world. But really, I have no idea.”

  Zacke stopped walking. “We’re here for answers. How can you not know?”

  John turned to face him, “I will give as many answers as I can. The Rageto want total domination, world control if they could manage it. They work in a structured system, with Elders who recruit and use teams of warriors. We are the Amartus. We are naturally stronger, but have been weakened over time by the battles we’ve lost, and the warriors that have defected to them.” John took a breath. “I know that we are born and re-born from a universal consciousness we call the River. But how it all works, what the cosmic rules are? Sorry, for that, I’m the wrong guy.”

  Cody asked, “Don’t you have a boss, or something?”

  “Yes, the Amartus had the council of elders.”

  Katie said, “You’re like our new leader, and you don’t know everything?”

  “I’m more of a soldier than a scholar. I know that’s not fair, but if you’ve lived as many lives as I have, the cliché is true. Life is not fair. Sorry.”

  Cody wondered, “Will we have to fight their elder, too?”

  “Probably not,” John explained, “The brothers work for a man more dangerous than both combined. But the last time we met, I cut him with Gwirionedd. His current body must be in his 90’s by now. He must protect it, since it will be his last. This elder will probably hide in his little hole. Good thing too, he has very strong talents and is a master of magic.”

  “Zamma,” said Lucas, “Why did I just think of that word?”

  “You’re the most in touch with your ancient, so you’ve probably met Elder Zamma in another body,” said John.

  Lucas lost the grip on his thought. “I remember him being dangerous, but nothing else. Why? How come my ancient seems to… I don’t know, like, ebb and flow. Just when I think I’m connecting, it fades away.”

  “Your full memories of all the lives you’ve lived may not come back for years. Whoever or whatever controls the River knows the mind can only handle so much at a time. I believe it’s giving you time to process it all. Sometimes, there is a trauma connected to being activated, a mental block that’s coming from your subconscious.”

  “Why do you call it the River, and not God?” asked Ariana.

  “I think of it more as an instrument of fate, an older concept than the current idea of God.” John tried to clarify, “The idea that no single being is controlling everything, but a sense that the universe will guide us, connect us together. But no one knows. Why are we special, with talents no other people have? I don’t know, and despite our talents, we are still just humans. No one gets to know the secrets of why we are here. Lots of philosophical ideas, but there is no instruction manual. The River keeps its secrets.”

  Katie said, “So you’re just as much in the dark as all of us? Great.”

  They finally arrived at the long main building of the mission. “Ironic that we’re talking about God right now.”

  “Why?” asked Zacke.

  John pointed to the apex of the building, the cross.

  Ariana explained, “The church is the biggest building, and it’s unlocked. I thought this would be a good place for answers.”

  John smiled and they all went into the building. “Ariana, do you know the history of this place? I don’t want to bore you locals, but would you mind a quick overview for me?”

  Ariana went into Mission Docent mode, “Sure, of course. This is the eleventh mission built by Spanish monks along the Camino Real Trail, originally founded in 1787. This is the largest and most restored of all the 21 missions. The original mission was built four miles from here, but an earthquake destroyed it.”

  They all paused at that, now that history and natural disasters were taking a new significance in their understanding.

  Ariana continued, “It was sold a few times, left to rot, but fully restored in 1934 by several organizations including the Civilian Conservation Corps. It now hosts thousands of visitors a year.”

  John began the clapping, and the rest joined in. Ariana blushed. “I work here as a docent during Mission Days in the summer making fresh tortillas. Wow, I think I’m over-sharing now.”

  “Not at all,” said John, “History is vitally important, especially to us. Many of you have been a witness to history throughout many lives, you just don’t remember it yet. Thank you for the verbal tour.”

  “This is the largest building, the chapel, and now I’ll shut up,” offered Ariana, and let them look around.

  It was a long rectangular space, with the altar and a priest’s raised pulpit at one end. The other end had old furniture, cordoned off from the public by a velvet rope. There were heavy wood chairs and benches along the walls.

  Since dusk was approaching, Ariana went to the altar and got candles from a hidden area. They all set up candles around the room, and the space warmed with the kind of light only candles can provide.

  Zacke looked at the soft glow on the walls. The beamed ceiling and walls had delicate, intricate paintings. The alter was festooned with soft colors.

  John said, “Let’s all sit in a circle on the floor. I’d like to see how far we can activate you.”

  They all sat. Lucas asked, “What do we do?”

  John said, “Just concentrate on your talents. They are getting stronger, but some of you may have had glimpses of these talents from a very young age; a random thought you heard when you were a child, making a door move without touching it. You all have small talents. You also have one big talent. This is the duality of existence.”

  “Like a main super power?” asked Lucas.

  “Power can be unwieldy,” explained John, “and power always corrupts. But talents can be shaped, honed. Your talents will get stronger as you use them, and your true self
will be revealed. Only the Rageto think of what you have as ‘powers.’”

  Katie asked, “How do we start?”

  “Just being close to each other should help. Your talents will draw out each other’s inner strengths. Only you know what your talents are. Close your eyes and concentrate on that main talent. I want you to think of the first time you remember anything unusual happening.”

  Katie thought back to when she was six. Riding bikes with her friend. She had fallen over, and her friend’s wheel was about to roll over her, but she imagined a green shield around her, and the bike rolled over her shield, never touching her. Her friend fell from her bike and their parents ran to help them. Her friend needed a Band-Aid. Not Katie.

  Ariana was four the first time something froze when she thought of it. She was trying to help her mother clean. Ariana got the large glass jar of floor cleaner out from under the kitchen cabinet. It slipped from her hands and would have crushed her foot, but it stopped an inch above, frozen in space. The tiny Ariana picked it up with glee and put it on the floor beside her. She still remembered the baffled look on her mother’s face.

  Cody remembered the first Game Boy he got. The hand-held electronic was his favorite toy until he couldn’t pass a level and the game sparked and shorted out in his hands. His mom returned it to the store, but the next one did the same thing within a week. Other things happened after that; a light going out, a school computer winking off, never to work again. Mom always said it was his “electric personality.” Apparently, it was more than that.

  Lucas’ thoughts went to the first day of Kenpo Karate class when he’d nearly broken his sparring partner’s foot… with his very first kick. That day he went home and thought of his childhood bully. He’d finally moved away, but his face still haunted Lucas. His anger had made him bite his lip and a few minutes later, his mom and dad came into a bedroom full of broken furniture and toys. He didn’t remember how it happened.

  Then his thoughts traveled back through a dark tunnel. He was standing on a shore, next to a Nordic dragon head that was carved into a ship. Then his mind sprang back to the mission. Lucas opened his eyes, frustrated as another truth slipped away from him.

  Zacke didn’t want to think about his so-called talent. His mind wandered to the first time he was playing hoops alone and felt the tingle. Then the memory of his mother walking into his room that night. The terrible screaming. Zacke slammed the memory into his metal sphere, locked it tight. He focused on the more familiar talent he knew best. His mind tried to focus on what the others were thinking, but he couldn’t hear any of their thoughts. Then a flash, one of the brothers. Derek’s mind felt close. Zacke could feel his own mind drifting toward his, glimpsing a thought. Then Derek’s angry face pushed him out. Zacke’s eyes shot open.

  “Stay out of my mind, boy,” said Derek, coming through the open doorway at the back end of the building.

  The others opened their eyes, and John jumped to his feet, sword drawn.

  “He’s lying to you all,” said Derek. He and Ehrhardt both stood inside the building.

  John shouted, “All of you, get behind me.”

  Katie stood up on shaky legs, holding her head. She felt strange.

  “Thanks Kaitlyn,” said Derek, “Good work.”

  “Wait, what?” yelled Katie, seeing the accusing eyes of the others. “You shot at us! I’m not helping you now.”

  Derek smiled, “You really should understand technology better. I can track your cell phone easily. Always check your settings.”

  “I swear, I’m not helping them!” Katie could only hope they believed her.

  John said, “It’s not your fault, Katie. They tricked you. The Rageto are masters of deception and lies.”

  “Us?” said Derek, “We only wanted to talk, to tell you what’s happening to you. To help you. This man lies, don’t you Pentoss, or whatever your name is this life. Has he asked you to lie for him yet? Lie to your parents, maybe?”

  John’s eyes narrowed. “Nice try. I don’t know what lies you told Katie. But you’re too late. They are nearly activated.”

  “Good,” added Ehrhardt, “Then they will remember what a liar you are. I wonder how many of their ancients you killed last time around, or the time before that. He is not your friend.”

  John said, “I only defend myself. The Rageto makes us turn on each other. Your elder recruited a few good friends. How is he by the way? Still nursing his wound, still hiding in his spider hole?”

  Ehrhardt stepped toward John, anger flashing in his eyes, but Derek stopped him. “We’re not wrong. He is. His kind are. You know how I can prove it? Their side is losing. Ask him how many Amartus have come back. Your elders, Pentoss, found true deaths. How many are left?”

  “Enough to see the end of you,” John answered, “We don’t murder like you.”

  “John, what do we do?” asked Zacke.

  “We fight.” answered Lucas.

  “I don’t know how you came back, Viking.” Ehrhardt spat at Lucas, “But I’ll throw you back to the River as many time as it takes.”

  A deep memory came to Lucas.

  He was standing on a beach in Galveston, Texas, the wind howling. He pulled his pitchfork out of what had been the younger brother Sazzo. He tracked them for weeks, the trains in 1900 proved to be surprisingly reliable. So had his information. He spotted the older brother, Caron. The storm was getting worse, and he could just make out the third warrior who was creating it. Caron hadn’t seen his younger brother fall, his back turned and focused on the storm maker. He shouted Caron’s name. The elder brother turned just as the pitchfork slammed through his chest. It wasn’t a true death, but it would serve. Hopefully the River would refuse to spit out the brothers again. But, his victory was short. As he turned to take care of the storm maker, the winds lifted him high in the air and he was torn apart.

  Lucas felt the warrior rise, as if the ancient Viking stood within Lucas’s slim frame. He filled with strength and focus. “Hello, Caron. This time I’ll finish the job.”

  Ehrhardt flinched as Lucas came forward. He sensed it wasn’t just Lucas.

  John shouted, “All of you, you’d better stand behind us. These two really don’t like each other.”

  Lucas charged at Ehrhardt. He drew his gun, but Lucas was too fast and slammed into the German. He was knocked into the plaster wall, and the gun went flying across the floor.

  Ariana, Cody and Zacke watched as the small Lucas lifted Ehrhardt and threw him across the room like he was a toy. The German’s back smashed into a portrait. Both painting and Ehrhardt tumbled to the floor. Lucas calmly walked toward him.

  Derek looked at Katie, “Kaitlyn, time to choose.”

  Katie looked defiant, then seemed confused, “You shot at us! You brought a football stadium down!”

  “To stop maniacs like him,” said Derek, pointing to Lucas, “I would never hurt you.”

  Katie blinked and was not at the mission.

  There was fire all around. She fell from the five-story stone building and saw the younger brother, Sazzo’s true face staring down as she dropped.

  Then she was in a trench and she felt the bayonet in her gut, and saw Sazzo’s smiling face.

  Then she was in a jungle, in heavy rains as hot metal tore through her body. Sazzo came out of the dark, smiling at her, before she died

  Katie snapped out of her memories. She smiled at Derek and walked to him.

  John yelled, “Katie, no!”

  Derek smiled back, “Girly girl. I knew you would…” he was cut short by Katie’s hard kick between his legs. Derek doubled over in pain. From the floor, he managed, “Wait… don’t tell me. Zhanna, right?”

  Katie’s hands went flat in front of her, and Derek slid across the stone floor. He smashed into the wall at the back of the building.

  Ehrhardt ran for his gun, trying to avoid Lucas. John got there first and kicked it farther down the long room. Lucas fanned out to flank from the right. Katie stood her gr
ound.

  Derek got up, favoring his aching back. His hands were still over his privates. There was a fresh crack in the old plaster. “Of all the ancients… seemingly sweet, sweet Katie had to be you, Zhanna.”

  The girl-warrior said, “This time around, I’ll let you have a true death with Pentoss’ sword. I owe you that, my love.”

  Derek lost all his surfer boy charm. His true ancient revealed itself. His voice was full of rage, “None of you has seen what I can do yet.” He closed his eyes briefly, concentrating. He smiled and opened his eyes. “Pajak Araneae Armata,” he whispered, “Pajak Araneae Armata, Pajak Araneae Armata. You know, they say that every square mile holds about a million of these little guys.”

  Lucas wavered, then got ready to charge at the brothers.

  Ariana covered her ears and yelled, “What is that? It’s everywhere.”

  “What? I don’t hear anything,” said Katie anxiously.

  “You can’t hear that…? Wait, look!” Ariana pointed at the wall above Derek. Dark shadows appeared, changing and shifting. The candles revealed little, at first. Then, they could all see the shadows were moving. The shadow was alive, creeping closer.

  Derek said in a calm, controlled voice, “I’ve chosen the most poisonous of them. Of course, most people hate them because they’re just so darned creepy.”

  They all stared at the white plaster walls. Now, they could all see the blackness growing out of the corners. They stared at the black swarm quickly spreading over the walls and ceiling. It looked like one big blob at first, but soon they could see clearly defined legs.

  Spiders of all types covered the far end of the room. Big hairy spiders, small deadly spiders, black arachnids fanned out toward them. They crawled with amazing speed. From overheard, spiders were already on their webs, headed straight down for them, unfurling their legs, as if hands reaching for its prey.

  Ariana chanted, “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.”