The Edge of Hope: Wrak-Ayya: The Age of Shadows Book Eleven

by Roberts, Leigh

  Haan introduced them, starting with Thord, the Leader of the Guardians. When all had been named, Thord stepped forward to speak.

  The audience remained frozen.

  “We cannot explain how we stand before you now, transformed in a way no one could have imagined. We know we possess powers, some we are aware of, and many we are not. But regardless of our abilities, they are meant for one purpose only. Service. Service to all who inhabit Etera, and service to Etera herself.

  “We are on a journey together. We do not know the destination, only that it is for the good of all our communities. We do not know the path, only that our steps are ordered. We will learn and discover and grow together as we create the future of our own making.”

  Suddenly, a bright light burst out from the back of the room. Everyone gasped and quickly turned around.

  As if materializing out of nowhere, stood a creature the likes of which had not been seen by any of the Brothers, People, or Sarnonn since the end of the previous age. It was taller even than the Sarnonn Guardians and bore a thick, silver-white coat that shimmered, though there was no other light falling on it. Deep-set silver-grey eyes seemed to see into each person’s soul, and everything stopped. Every consciousness in the room was riveted on the figure standing before them.

  Into everyone’s mind, only one word appeared. Pan.

  Adia stifled a gasp and unconsciously hugged An’Kru tighter. The real Pan. Then, to her shock, Pan walked over and reached for An’Kru.

  Adia looked up, up into the silent grey eyes staring down at her. Her heart pounding in her chest, she clutched her son tighter. She found herself slowly shaking her head, no.

  The Guardian gestured again, and Adia quieted her fears enough to realize that the grey eyes were filled with compassion and love. Tears rolling down her face, Adia slowly, carefully, held out An’Kru.

  The words appeared in Adia’s mind. “There is no truer trust than to surrender to another that which we would give our last breath to protect.”

  Carefully cradling the tiny bundle, Pan turned away from Adia and walked to the front of the room.

  As she approached, Haan and the Sarnonn Guardians again fell to one knee. When they arose, each bumped a fist over his heart and bowed slightly before all said in unison, “An’Kru’Tor, The Promised One.”

  Pan turned to face the crowd, cradling An’Kru in her powerful yet gentle embrace. The offspring looked up at Pan and gurgled happily, reaching out a chubby hand as if to try to touch her face, so far out of reach.

  “I am Pan. The last of the Mothoc Guardians.” To each person’s shock, they could understand her as if the words appeared in their minds. “Growing stronger and wiser through the years, for eons I have waited to be with you. And now the Prophecy has come to pass; An’Kru is here to lead us into the Age of Light. But there is much to be accomplished before this can happen.”

  Pan took a step forward. “An age ago, just after the days of my father, Moc’Tor, a rebel group split from the Mothoc who had followed Straf’Tor to Kayerm. Its members caused great distress, and as a result, their Leader was executed by Straf’Tor himself, and the rest of his followers were expelled from the community. That band has remained alienated, their bitterness growing through the centuries. And because they are Mothoc, their negativity is poisoning the life force that permeates and makes up everything here in your realm of Etera.

  “The opening of Kthama Minor and An’Kru’s appearance have caused an influx of the life force through the vortex that weaves throughout Etera, circulating the creative power of the One-Who-Is-Three. The rebel Mothoc are connected to the current of the web, just as are any of the Mothoc or Sarnonn. As am I.

  “The rebel Mothoc know about the prophecy of An’Kru. They know his coming heralds the Age of Light. Because they have lost their way, in their twisted beliefs, they resent the existence of the Akassa and Sarnonn. They do not want the Age of Light to dawn; they rather wish to create strife and division on Etera. In time, as An’Kru grows, he will cause the vortex to grow even stronger. And they will realize he has entered this realm. And from that moment on, they will seek him here, hoping to destroy him before he can grow into his full power.”

  Everyone suddenly looked around, trying to find Adia. Acaraho had left the front of the room to join her, putting his arm around her waist in support.

  “Fear not,” said Pan. “For now, his presence here is cloaked. But we are racing against time. These Guardians and An’Kru must be taught how to use their abilities. I have already started teaching the six, but An’Kru is yet too young. However, as he grows, and so does his power, even I, on my own, will not be able to conceal his existence here. When that time comes, I will take him with me to keep him safe until he learns to use his powers and can fulfill his destiny.”

  No, no, no. Adia clutched Acaraho to stop herself from falling.

  “So he will remain at Kthama until he reaches the age of seven. At which time he will come with me for his own protection.”

  “What? No? Go where?” Adia stammered.

  “For now, he will be loved, cherished, and raised in the care of his parents and community. He will learn the ways of the People. As for the Sarnonn Guardians, I will continue to teach them elsewhere, as I have already been doing, because my presence here pulls too much power from the vortex and could alert the rebels that I have returned. The six female Guardians are seeded. The females will not be given to this battle as their role is one of creation. But their offspring—and in time, the others to come—will take part in the war to save Etera from the negativity of the rebel Mothoc and the Hue’Mahns.”

  “But heed my words. The battle for Etera does not fall to these of us alone. The future of Etera is in your hands, too—Brothers, Akassa, Sarnonn, Waschini. All who carry Hue’Mahn blood must live in harmony with creation. If An’Kru succeeds in his destiny, a new age will open for Etera, another chance. But if the negative thinking of the Waschini is not corrected, it will take root and spread further.

  “Etera wishes to live. She knows the Hue’Mahns present a threat to her. And if we fail, she can, and will, call on those who serve her to rid herself of this population rather than let all the other creatures perish. Let us pray it does not come to that.”

  The room was utterly silent as Pan moved toward the back and gently handed An’Kru to his mother. Adia wrapped herself around her son and buried them both in Acaraho’s arms.

  “I leave you now, but not without a little more hope,” said Pan. She suddenly vanished and reappeared. Behind her stood thirty or forty Sarnonn, quite a few holding offspring in their arms.

  Everyone gasped.

  “This is Adik’Tar Notar and his community.”

  Oh’Dar and his grandparents turned to each other, their eyes wide.

  “I ask you to receive them into Kht’shWea.”

  Haan found his voice, “Of course, Guardian. We welcome them all!”

  Pan then moved over to Khon’Tor and stood directly in front of him. “Son of my father’s sons, blood of my blood. Return now to your daughter, and to your gentle Tehya and the son who is even now growing peacefully within her belly. Unbind and release the regrets that still hobble your soul, lest they cause you to stumble on the way to your destiny.”

  She turned and reached her hand out to Nootau, who with Iella had taken a place beside his mother.

  He glanced at his mate before slowly approaching Pan. He stood in front of the Mothoc Guardian, looking up at her immense height, waiting.

  “You come from greatness. And you have greatness within you,” Pan said. “Continue your studies with Urilla Wuti. Learn all you can. And to answer the question troubling your soul, Nootau; no, Acaraho will live for many years yet. And regardless, your path lies in another direction than to become Leader of the High Rocks.”

  Then she turned to the Brothers. “And you, one of the Great Spirit’s greatest gifts to Etera. It is you, those whom my own kind betrayed at the deepest level, in whom lie th
e hope for the future. Without you, the Sarnonn and the Akassa would not exist. And without the Sarnonn and Akassa, your own future would be brief. But working together, we have a chance of turning the dark tide which, if not stopped, will carry you all to a catastrophic end.”

  Pan paused a moment and added, “How ironic, you who are the teachers the Hue’Mahns most desperately need to save their own kind, are those to whom they are least willing to listen.”

  “Hear me now, Healers. I leave you all a gift. Your sensitivities will be further augmented.

  For others here, whose abilities have lain dormant, those who perhaps have never thought of themselves as called to be Healers, you will experience a quickening in your soul as your gifts awaken. Until I return, seek the will of the Great Spirit. Trust that you are guided. Love one another.”

  Pan looked around the room one more time. She raised her hand to Haan and the Sarnonn Guardians and said, “I leave you now—for the time being—to the future of your own making.”

  Having said all she had come to say, Pan raised both hands into the air and glimmered from sight in front of their eyes.

  As the Mothoc Guardian disappeared, Adia felt a surge of energy fill her entire being.

  The room broke into chatter, heads turning, some rushing to find comfort in the embrace of a loved one or friend. The crowd parted easily as Haan and his Guardians made their way through to greet Notar and his community. Urilla Wuti joined Adia, Nadiwani, and Acaraho. The Brothers’ Chiefs spoke among themselves.

  Miss Vivian turned to Oh’Dar, ‘What just happened? Did that creature just disappear into thin air?” Her lips were trembling.

  “The Mothoc, as well as the Sarnonn, can cloak themselves. I imagine that’s what she just did.”

  “She?” asked Ben.

  “Yes,” said Oh’Dar. “Later, I’ll explain about the Guardian, Pan, and the Mothoc—after things settle down.”

  “We’re living in a fantasy come to life,” said Ben.

  Iella threw her arms around Nootau. “I did not know you were worried about someday having to lead the People of the High Rocks.”

  “It is not exactly about leading them. My fear has been about losing Acaraho. That my leading this community would be brought on by something happening to him.”

  Nootau turned to Adia, still sheltered in Acaraho’s arms. “Mama, you do not think for a moment that Pan would let any harm come to An’Kru?”

  Adia wiped her tears and stared at her son. “How am I to give him up? How am I to place him in another’s care? Was it not enough I had to give you up, and in the time you were out of my arms, you were almost murdered?”

  She turned her head back and rested her face against Acaraho’s muscular chest. I am being challenged to surrender what I hold dear. My jealousy at Nootau’s turning to Urilla Wuti, his giving her that crystal. My resentment of Haan, feeling that he was withholding information. My fears for An’Kru.

  Acaraho closed his eyes as he held his mate—as if struggling to maintain his own composure.

  “When the time comes, I will go with him,” said Nootau.

  “No!” Iella exclaimed, clasping his hand. “How can you say that? You do not even know where Pan will take him. And for how long.”

  “I was told that when the time came, I would know without a doubt what my role with An’Kru would be,” said Nootau. “And now I know. But I also know that this journey we must take with Pan will not cause us to be separated forever and that he and I will return safely to all of you, whom we love so much.”

  Iella looked up at him. “Seven years. We have only seven years before you leave?”

  Adia pulled back a little from Acaraho’s embrace and said to Nootau, “That is why Pan told you to study all you could with Urilla Wuti. To prepare you for whatever awaits you. She knew you were to go with An’Kru.”

  She looked up at her mate; she could feel his strength, and the love for her that radiated out of him. She felt Nadiwani standing resolutely at her side. She could feel Urilla Wuti’s strength shoring her up and surrounding her with love. She saw Nimida and Tar standing off to the side and could feel their compassion and support. The family I thought I would never have. I must learn to trust their love for me and allow myself to lean on them. After my father died and I was sent here to Kthama, there was a time when I felt alone. Now I am blessed to be surrounded by so many who care for me and who I care for in return. I am not alone. And neither is An’Kru.

  And through all that has happened to me, I think the biggest thing I have learned is that hard times cannot be prevented; all we can do is to trust that somehow we will find the strength within ourselves to get through them.

  Suddenly, her fears calmed, Adia thought of Khon’Tor and searched the room to see him standing alone. She released herself from Acaraho’s embrace, handed An’Kru to Nadiwani, and went over to the High Rocks’ fallen Leader.

  “You are to have a son,” she said gently.

  “Another son,” Khon’Tor said, looking down at Adia.

  “Nootau told me he spoke with you. I do not know if he has spoken with Acaraho; he may have been waiting until this event was behind us. But I agree with Pan,” she said. “Find forgiveness for yourself; you have to release your self-hatred. You must not let the past rob you of your future. Or the present.

  “Look at him,” she said, twisting back to look at Nootau. “He is a blessing to everyone he meets; he is kind of spirit and gentle of soul. And I see the same sweetness in Arismae. And Nimida, who has become a very skilled toolmaker and a sweet, kind-hearted friend to everyone.”

  She once again looked at Khon’Tor, “It is time to release the specter of Akar’Tor that hangs over you. Whatever happened to make him the tortured soul he was does not exist in any of your other offspring.”

  “You are wise,” Khon’Tor said to her. “Your offspring are blessed by your presence, as are all the People. They always have been.”

  Adia searched Khon’Tor’s eyes and found the pain behind them.

  She then did what she had voluntarily done but once before. She reached out and gently placed her hand over Khon’Tor’s heart.

  She looked deep into his eyes and whispered, “Peace,” she said. “Peace. Peace now and forevermore.”

  Khon’Tor felt a flood of love radiate from the Healer’s touch and spread through him. It was like a breeze warmed by passing over an evening fire, and it permeated his every cell. In the Healer’s eyes, where there was every right to be resentment and bitterness, he saw only compassion and forgiveness.

  He fought back the sting of tears, and placing his hand over hers where it rested on his chest, he closed his eyes. It was the first time he had touched Adia since the night he struck her down and so grievously wronged her. And somehow, that gentle gesture shared between them released both completely from the pain of the past.

  Nootau was watching from across the room. He turned to see Acaraho studying him. And Acaraho said, “You know, do you not? Somehow you know.”

  “Yes. But it does not change anything between you and me,” Nootau said.

  Acaraho put his arms around the young male he had raised as his own. He hugged him tightly, and choking back so many emotions, whispered, “You are my son. My son.”

  Nootau tightened his grasp on the only father he had ever known and whispered back. “Yes, Father. I am and always will be your son. No power on Etera or anywhere in creation can ever change that.”

  E’ranale, Apenimon’Mok, An’Kru, and Pan stood together watching from the Corridor.

  “Even from the peace and safety of here, we live every moment with them, do we not?” said Pan.

  Apenimon watched his daughter heal the one who had at one point sought to destroy her. “Love is a bond that nothing can break. No distance, no circumstance, no power, can rend it. There is no darkness, no storm that can put out its light. It is that which inspires us, encourages us, heals us, binds us one to another in innumerable ways of the heart and soul. And ever
y step in between, no matter how difficult, is ordered and protected. Love is the song from which the One-Who-Is-Three sings us into being. It is love that calls us home to itself. It is love from which we spring and love to which we return. In the end, it is always love that saves us.”

  He stopped a moment before saying, “My daughter’s journey is long still, with many trials and troubles to come. But if she can focus on hearing love’s voice, it will guide her, and everyone she loves, through the storms and safely back home.”

  A FINAL NOTE ABOUT SERIES ONE

  * * *

  Having now finished Book Eleven: The Edge of Hope, you’re perhaps wondering if this is any way to end a series. I’m sure we can all agree it isn’t, which is an appropriate reaction because this is not really the end of the series, only a pause. There’s far more of the story to be told, and I’ll continue it in later books.

  In the meantime, I hope you’ll follow me into Series Two: Wrak-Wavara: The Age of Darkness. The Age of Darkness takes us back in time to the story of the Mothoc, the Ancient Sasquatch, as they wrestle with difficult choices in their effort to avoid extinction. Book One will encompass a small portion of the material presented during Series One in Book Six: Revelation. However, there’s a great deal of detail woven around and following the material already presented. At the moment, it seems there will be at least four books to Series Two, perhaps more.

  If you wish to stay in touch, you can do so in the following ways:

  Follow me as an author on Amazon.com

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  Thank you for all the kind words of encouragement and appreciation that so many of you have expressed throughout this first series. I hope you’ll continue with me on this journey and that the next series will entertain you as well as this one seems to have.