The Ancients

by Adam-Clay Webb

  “Oga,” Kizer said promptly. Kizer was close by to Oga, keeping watch on the significant players in his game through the crystal balls. “Things have become interesting. It appears we are not the only ones who have learnt of the Crystal Eye.”

  ***

  Because of how quickly the horses were moving on Lex’s command, and due to the white blizzard that nearly froze the guards’ feet through their thick rubber boots, Lex passed through several villages of Iceland without even realizing it. By the time they broke the blizzard, it was night, and they were in the middle of what seemed to be an abandoned village.

  “Why are we stopping?” Lex asked annoyed as he saw the guards slowing.

  “Even if you threaten to freeze our blood again, we must stop to rest for the night,” one of them said, his hands and feet numb.

  Lex hissed.

  “Remember, we are only men.”

  “What is this place?” Lex realized that he was surrounded by rubble. Some of the buildings there were still in place, just a few of them. Even in the darkness, Lex noticed a bronze statue a few meters away.

  “This place was the Snow Village,” one of them said. “This was where the Icemakers used to live.”

  “Before the Black War,” Lex said.

  “Only four Icemakers survived the war,” the same guard said. “Icilda, the daughter of the leader of the village of Icemakers, was one of them. To honour how the Icemakers defended Iceland, the government built a massive tower of ice for the four who remained. Icilda and the other three now live there, within the quarters of the king.”

  “But some people blame the Icemakers for the attack in the first place,” the other guard said. “They said if the Icemakers weren’t around, the demons would not have attacked the continent.”

  One of the guards pointed to the statue Lex had noticed earlier. “That is a statue of Asuri, Icilda’s father. This entire village is a relic. It isn’t even legal to trot these grounds anymore. We should find somewhere else to rest.”

  “How far from here is the tower where Icilda lives?” Lex asked.

  “Around five hundred miles north.”

  “That would be an easy flight,” Lex said to himself, “but none of them have been responding to my thoughts since they encountered Oga. I can’t even access a little of their power.” Maximo… is your fear for Oga so deep?

  “It’s a tower, so I won’t miss it,” Lex said to the men. “Thanks for taking me this far. I’ll go alone from here.” Lex jumped back on his horse, immediately riding off, quickly disappearing from the guards, showing gratitude by leaving breath in them.

  ***

  “My level of shifting could get us within just a few miles of the island,” Viknor said, “but that would be careless movement.”

  “The king said the same thing,” Darius said.

  “The king was wise. Vis might have left some kind of trap that would respond to spaceshifting close to the island.”

  “You mean one similar to your friend’s that threw us in that abysmal underworld?” Azar asked.

  “No, one far worse,” Viknor answered.

  “This simply means we have to take a vessel then, like what was done before,” Darius said.

  “Yes,” Viknor agreed. “Azar, what will you do? I’d like to go to the island myself, and I want Darius with me.”

  “Of course I’m coming too!”

  “So you will leave the state kingless to go on an adventure?” Darius asked, “Just like your grandfather!” he said with nostalgic excitement before Azar could answer.

  “Ha! Those greedy old underlings will be happy to wreak whatever havoc they can in the few days I’ll be gone,” Azar said.

  “Don’t worry, I know a few men who will keep things running smoothly,” Darius said. “Men from your grandfather’s time.”

  “Go deal with the formalities then,” Azar said, “I will ready us a ship to leave in an hour. Viknor, go get whatever we will need for our trip.”

  Chapter 12: How Swords Were Used

  As Blade meditated in the Zakatian cave for many days, he felt a strange spiritual pressure slowly grow stronger and more stifling. He knew for sure though what this was. As he felt his body and mind growing exceedingly, he felt his soul filling up with the spirit of Zakashi. It was a dangerous feeling. Blade knew what continuing to train in such a manner, in such a place, would cause.

  ***

  Little time had passed, but Kyle’s strength had already grown by multiples of what it was before he had met Lyoko. As he trained in the cave, his muscles grew hard as rocks, his eyes sharp as eagles’, his feet swift as wind. As he and Lyoko clashed each other with old techniques extinct to the world, Kyle slowly ascended into something else. His level was even reaching close to Lyoko’s. His hair was thick and heavy, and stretched down to his lower back. His eyes grew fiercer, and he hungered more and more for battles, for greater strength.

  He found himself having vivid dreams some nights, dreams that lasted for what seemed to him like many days. In these dreams, a sage appeared to him and trained him far more intensely than Lyoko did. Each time, he would wake up far stronger than he had fallen asleep, continually surprising Lyoko with techniques even he himself was not familiar with. Lyoko saw that Loki, the Sword Sage, had accepted Kyle as his pupil. Lyoko was secretly jealous of Kyle. It took years for the sage to recognize Lyoko, yet Kyle was already being given skill and knowledge even he Lyoko had never received from the sage.

  The boy of transcendent skill straightened his stance even through his exhaustion. He was in one of the dreams that Loki gave to him. In this one, he was in a world where light was not found. Loki had been training him to depend less on his sight. By building accurate images in his mind based on vibrations and sound, Kyle was ably defending against Loki’s strikes, though of course, the sage was fighting at a level great distances beneath his true strength.

  The swords Loki and Kyle used in the dreams were only existent there. They were much heavier than regular blades, even than Blade’s sword, and so it would make any other sword Kyle wield feel like a feather to him. As Loki’s sword banged against Kyle’s, creating a wave of power that itself could destroy buildings, a bright light sudden came about. Kyle jumped back quickly, ignoring as much as possible the sudden change and readying to strike at Loki.

  “Boy…” Loki said. Each time Loki spoke, the world trembled. Kyle had gotten used to this, though Loki barely uttered words, unable to stop the world from being shaken up by his voice. Speech was hardly necessary though; most of the time, it was like knowledge was just passed on to Kyle telepathically. Kyle looked out at the sage, who wore a veil of light at all times, hiding his face. The light used to be almost blinding to Kyle, but it bothered him less as the dreams grew more frequent and longer.

  “Sage,” Kyle answered.

  In a time too short to describe, Loki reached up to the boy and touched his shoulder firmly. Kyle’s eyes narrowed at the bright light, but he strugglingly kept them open. “I feel it,” the sage said. “The awakening of Zakashi’s spirit.”

  “Blade, he has been training in the Zakatian Cave!” Kyle said, “Could it be…”

  “There are few men, like myself and Zakashi, whose, strength is so absolute that it becomes a life-force upon its own volition.”

  Kyle had gotten used to hearing things like this from Lyoko.

  “This embodiment of myself that stands before you is not my spirit. It is my will itself, and my strength. They are stronger than death, and so transcend life. Because both you and I have a similar will – or so it would appear – you have been absorbing my strength and knowledge, and you have been seeing me in these dreams. Zakashi, however, does not share the will of the one who trains in his presence.”

  “Does this mean that Zakashi’s will has materialized like yours have, and is opposing Blade?” Kyle began to worry.

  “Yes. Zakashi’s will and strength, I fear, will take over Blade’s soul, and this will be his resurrection. I
can feel Zakashi’s menace from where I stand, even from here, in the world outside of life and death.”

  “What do I have to do?” Kyle asked. He feared what the sage would say.

  “Zakashi’s consciousness, as I said, is not a spirit, but his crude will. By sensing the existence of my will, Zakashi’s will shall cause Blade to come after you, as you have absorbed my will, and the tiny remnants of my spirit left in this cave.”

  “So you expect me to fight Blade?!”

  “Blade will have his own fight to worry about. It is Zakashi we should be concerned about. From this small dimension, from my domain, I perceive all the motions of this world. The ones called gods are making serious movements, and your destiny has become clear this instant.”

  “You mean you know about Kizer and Oga?”

  “You offend me by your surprise,” the sage said. “You and I, with your body and my will and strength, ought to defeat Zakashi before certain things are put in place by Kizer and Oga. If we succeed, then we will spare the world an enemy when the Armageddon begins.”

  Kyle didn’t try to hide the frustration his confusion caused.

  “Kizer and Oga are going to perform a mass resurrection, a resurrection of the strongest men in all history. We can make sure that Zakashi will not be among them if we destroy the tiny fraction of his existence that remains, which is now within Blade. Fragments of the spirits of the others to be called to life by Kizer and Oga are at a particular shrine. There, they are guarded by eighth grade magic and so cannot be touched.”

  “But we can stop Zakashi’s resurrection by defeating him from now,” Kyle said.

  “We must. I have an augmentation to that plan, but first, let us focus on eliminating Zakashi.”

  ***

  Blade opened his eyes to a world of whiteness. “My soul…” he quickly realized, slowly rising to a stance in the eerie place. His eyes bulged suddenly as he felt a fear that was almost tangible. “What is this?” His eyes narrowed as he saw something strange happen a little distance ahead. A smoky matter appeared and swirled until it formed a man with long white hair. The man wore white robes, robes almost white as his hair. He moved slowly toward Blade, and the intense fear began to feel unbearable. “Zakashi…”

  “You have stolen my sword, and now you intend to steal my strength?” the man asked as he reached near to Blade. “Give it here – my precious blade,” Zakashi said, holding a hand out to Blade. Blade made a quick backward movement, feeling the danger of being so close to Zakashi.

  “Aaaah! Blade uttered a wail as he felt a cold blade run through his back. He looked down at the piercing sword. His blood flooded down on the white ground, making an artistic contrast. What? But… When did…

  Zakashi was standing behind Blade, holding with one hand the sword he had taken from him with complete ease and light swiftness. “I did ask you nicely,” Zakashi said in a kind of jeering tone. Blade’s eyes could not steady themselves. He wasn’t in pain though he was gravely wounded. He was utterly frightened by Zakashi’s speed. He questioned his own strength within that moment, and even the very meaning of strength.

  “See, I will be honest here. You’ve put me in a very delicate position. If I had allowed you to continue training here, you would have slowly absorbed all of my essence. Of course, I cannot allow that. Nevertheless, I cannot simply kill you and steal your feeble body. This small life-force that has survived death is not enough to replace your spirit. By coming here, I am now confined in this soul, until my father and that old wizard call me forth anyway.”

  These words frightened Blade.

  “Of all my father’s sons, I am the only one who has deceived death, and only I know my father’s plans. Before he brings me back to life, there is one thing I must do. That man, Loki… I can feel his presence from in here. It appears he too has lived on though his death had come.” Zakashi pulled the sword from Blade’s chest and pushed him down. Blade fell on his face. As life drifted from Blade, the entire world began to go dim. “Huh?” Seeing this, Zakashi rushed to Blade and knelt by him. He touched Blade and his wound slowly vanished. Blade stood slowly, confused.

  The light fully returned to the white world.

  “I cannot keep wasting the little life-force I have healing your wounds, so don’t force me to hurt you again,” Zakashi said.

  ***

  Azar, Viknor and Darius hurried on to a small private vessel that Darius himself – who Azar had learnt was an admiral back in the day – piloted. The operation was so discreet that Azar used an unofficial boat, and did not take with him a crew. The boat was named Sea Roach. It was built for speed, and had been used in secret missions before to move small task forces at high speeds across waters – so Darius had told them anyway.

  Before long, the three were moved from the busy port of Libson. The sea felt rough under the small vessel, and the sky promised heavy rain.

  Azar worried a bit about whether the boat would manage the journey. “How long should it be before we reach Ghost?” he asked Darius.

  “Three, four days with good wind,” he answered. “A week if the weather doesn’t favour us.”

  “That is good time,” Viknor said, “but somehow I feel uneasy.” He had the unshaking feeling that a week, or even three days, might not make a fast enough journey.

  ***

  Lex rode for four to five hours at a time non-stop, resting only for an hour at a time, pushing the horse to its limit. A full night and a full day had passed, leaving the sky dim with evening’s light again. He walked his horse into a small town called Gammory. There were no guards, and the houses were humble. The streets were scanty. People looked at Lex strangely, some bowing slightly in greeting. As he walked his horse on the snowy street, an aroma struck him. He stood still for a second, dazed with nostalgia.

  All of a sudden, he felt all his coldness and anger, all his strength even, vanish as his nose sucked in the scent of hot chocolate. He took a few steps back, his eyes wide, as if an epiphany had come to him. In that moment, all he wanted was to grasp onto the past, to return there, and stay there forever.

  He moved toward the warm, welcoming scent, and opened the door of the small house, leaving the horse in the yard, which was almost indistinguishable from the road. A startled woman jumped up from the dinner table, stepping toward Lex. Two children – a boy and a girl – were at the table.

  “What do you want, young man?” she asked. “What do you mean barging in like this?”

  “Huh? Uh… Sorry, Ma’am,” Lex fumbled, just realizing what he had done. He took a step back, still entranced by the scent of the hot chocolate. “My horse…” Lex pointed to the horse outside, “I will sell it to you for a cup of hot chocolate,” Lex said. The woman looked confused for a moment. The little girl at the table looked past Lex and the woman, seeing the white horse outside. Her eyes beamed.

  “Mommy, a horse!” she exclaimed, and ran to the kitchen, almost burning herself in pouring a tall mug of hot chocolate. She walked briskly back with the mug and handed it over to Lex, then ran outside to the horse.

  “Come back!” her mother called at her, chasing after, grabbing her up as she ran to the animal. Lex quickly took a sip of the chocolate. He closed his eyes, almost involuntarily.

  Young Lex shivered, wrapped in warm blankets Ben had given him. With a jittery hand, he took the mug of hot chocolate from the young witch, who was the most beautiful sight to him. Ben and Kyle were also there with him. His brows furrowed as a black mist formed itself into a familiar spirit that it seemed only he could see. “Maximo, what are you doing here?” Lex asked, annoyed. Time had stopped for Clover, Kyle and Ben.

  “My strength has returned. We haven’t time to reminisce!” Maximo warned.

  Lex opened his eyes quickly, and blackness flashed in them for a moment. Lex sighed. He did feel the presence of Maximo within him again. The presence of the other Zagans were faint. Lex stepped outside, almost bumping into the woman holding her daughter. “Thank you,” he said,
smiling, and placed the mug on a small table on the veranda. He walked out into the road, and four slender black wings sprung forth from his back. He took off toward the skies and fast disappeared from the sight of those who had seen the boy of prophecy.

  ***

  Blade cracked his eyes open and his vision focused slowly. “What the…” He clenched his teeth, just feeling pain throughout his entire body. He found himself in a horrid, dream-like bondage. His feet were on the white floor that stretched forever in every direction. Wrapped around his wrists tightly were black chains that held his arms up. The chains stretched upward into the eternal distance above. Blade struggled for several minutes before he gave up on escaping.

  “Zakashi!” he cried out in frustration. How can he bond me even in my own soul?! His eyes widened suddenly as he could feel Zakashi’s thoughts. He’s after Kyle… This is bad.

  Blade sighed, then closed his eyes and tried to calm himself. He knew that if there was one thing that never helped anyone, it was panic. He found himself moving far more swiftly than he knew he could through a forest, cutting down fierce wolves that jumped at him. He was in a strange consciousness. It was like he was watching himself in motion; he was unable to control himself. He realized that Zakashi had bounded and possessed him completely.

  ***

  “Based on certain movements, and supported by what I have read from olden scrolls, it is a good assumption that the Crystal Eye is hidden on an invisible island named Ghost. The prince and two others are headed there,” Kizer said.

  “I should go and retrieve it then,” Oga said. “Things will be set in motion once I get my hands on the stone.”

  ***

  Kyle opened his eyes to the sacred cave. “Master Lyoko!” Kyle said, looking about, but finding to see he was not around. He went outside quickly, searching about.