The Jestivan (Erafeen, #1)

by David F. Farris

  “Anything that will better those around you,” Agnos replied again.

  “Very good. The Jestivan is selfless. Glory—if it comes—is nothing but an insignificant byproduct. Names like Ataway Kawi and Mendac LeAnce are legends to us, but their glory comes from what they achieved. And what they achieved served a greater good.”

  Ataway Kawi and Mendac LeAnce. Two legends to their respective eras.

  “However, one of these men—Mendac, an original Jestivan—wouldn’t have lived long enough to achieve what he did if it wasn’t for a girl.” He said the last part weakly as he looked toward the black curtain. Then he turned back toward the students. “I’m sure you’re all familiar with the stories of the original Jestivan.” Everyone nodded. “Good. Director Debo, lift the curtain.”

  As Debo grasped the curtain, Bryson braced himself. If it weren’t for what was behind that curtain, Bryson’s dad would have died a lot sooner, and things like the Teleplatforms and Telejunction would not exist.

  Debo pulled off the veil to reveal a diamond-trimmed sky-blue coffin. Shock plastered nearly every young face. Even Yama, who had been holding a stern expression since she sat down, faltered a bit.

  The reaction that stood out the most, however, was Jilly’s. Her jaw practically hit the floor as she let out a gasp. She straightened up and craned her neck to get a better look.

  The Spirit Director was smiling at Jilly’s reaction, causing the wrinkles around her mouth to sharply curve. “This must be quite a treat for you, Lita Jilly,” she said.

  “The stories say she was buried at the school, but nobody has ever actually seen her coffin or memorial,” Jilly replied without taking her eyes off the coffin. “I can’t believe my eyes. This is the grave of my idol, Director Neaneuma.”

  “That’s no surprise,” the old woman said. “She is the pride of the Spirit Kingdom and an idol to most of our people.”

  “I’d say almost every girl—no matter the kingdom—looks up to her, Director Neaneuma,” said a voice from the back. It was Lilu. “She is the perfect example of what pure love is.”

  Bryson’s mind was reeling. The woman resting in that coffin was the reason why his dad escaped death at an earlier age, but at the same time, his dad was the reason why she was inside there.

  As Debo returned to his seat, Poicus cleared his throat. “Thusia. Resident of the Spirit Kingdom and one of the five original Jestivan. She held an immense amount of Spirit Energy inside her little body, giving her the ability to create tornado-like winds. She was also the driving force behind the Jestivan thirty years ago. She was absolutely necessary for the group’s survival.”

  Olivia glanced at Bryson. Despite her blank expression, he knew that she was concerned for him.

  “As you all know, a significant battle happened 27 years ago,” Poicus continued. “It was a battle between Dev King Rehn—leader of one of the Dark Realm’s five kingdoms—and two Jestivan—Thusia and Mendac. Thusia lies in this coffin while Mendac is buried in the Intel Kingdom’s Palace. They are the only two original members of the Jestivan whose whereabouts are known.

  “Puddles littered the mud and grass as the sky was shrouded in gray. Roars of thunder shook the ground while bolts of lightning sporadically lit the somber sky. Thusia and Mendac were winning the fight against Dev King Rehn, and despite the bleak weather, everything seemed to be in favor of the Light Realm. The Dev King was wounded and struggling for breath. But Mendac was also suffering from severe injuries.

  “While he was recovering, Thusia was in the process of finishing off the Dev King, whipping him with vicious gusts of wind. He keeled over on one knee on the verge of death, but before Thusia could land the finishing blow, the ground violently cracked between them.

  “She stumbled backward with her hands over her ears, for the sound of the crust fracturing beneath them was intense … but even that proved to be nothing compared to what she heard next.

  “A roar. A deafening roar that caused the tiny hairs on her skin to stand tall. A roar that overpowered the torrential thunderstorm they were amidst. And as she crawled backward, for the first time in her life, she witnessed something that made her face twist in horror—a mighty and powerful demon had risen from the crust. Masses of rubble rolled off its broad shoulders and rained to the ground below, causing Thusia to scramble in every direction to avoid being crushed. The demon roared again as it began smashing the ground with heavy fists, grabbing chunks of land and tossing it away.

  “It then set its eyes on the injured Mendac LeAnce, who was slumped against a boulder. Thusia jumped in front of her partner and knocked the demon’s swiping hand away with a blast of wind. She then immediately followed up with another, stronger burst of wind directed toward its face, knocking it onto its back. Thusia stayed in her fighting stance while Mendac attempted to stand with no success.

  “The demon sprang high into the air, aiming to crush Mendac with its feet. Thusia decided to act on an impulsive plan. She sprinted toward Mendac and leapt above him like a salmon. As her back arched, she acted as a shield. She had accepted her fate, but she had to stall for a little more time, so at the crest of her jump, she released the largest gust of wind she had ever summoned toward the bottoms of the demon’s feet.

  “The demon’s descent was slowed, but its massive weight continued to bear down on them. Mendac begged her to move, but she ignored him and explained what she was about to do—release all of the Spirit Energy in her body into Mendac’s, and while it would not give him the ability of wind, he would temporarily have the spirit and drive to fight at his fullest potential without the pain of his injuries holding him back. She then instructed him to dive out of the way from where the demon was about to land.

  “Mendac pleaded against her plan. He knew that special ability of a Spirit resident had a terrible downside—complete paralysis. But she had already made her decision. After all, Mendac was the man she loved.

  “So she closed her eyes and shifted all of her focus on releasing her Spirit. As she did so, her wind began to weaken, and the demon began to fall faster. Mendac’s spirit began to ignite and he felt a sudden drive to persevere. As he dove away, he released some of his electricity into one of the metal rods from his waistband, and tossed it into the puddle next to him. As he did, Thusia’s wind disappeared, her eyes became faint, and the demon’s feet crushed her stomach, chest, and head on impact.”

  At this point, Meow Meow was failing miserably at holding back tears.

  “As the demon landed,” Poicus continued, “it howled as it was electrocuted. Ignoring the pain from the demon’s burning skin, Mendac climbed onto its chest. He spit in its face, grabbed his second metal rod, reached high in the air with two hands, and rammed it through the demon’s heart as he unleashed a final surge of electricity into it.

  “At this point, he still had hope that Thusia was alive. He had thrown the metal rod into the puddle for two purposes. If Thusia had somehow survived the impact, the electricity could act as a reboot to her body’s nervous system. Granted, this would have caused unparalleled pain for Thusia since all feeling would be returned to her body, but life would have been worth it.

  “Mendac slid down the demon’s belly, his feet making a splash in the soft mud. He saw Thusia’s forearm and hand extending from underneath the demon’s leg. He slipped and fell in the slop as he ran to her. Tears streamed down his face over the probability that the woman he loved was dead.

  “But as he slid through the mud toward her hand, there was cause for some hope. Her fingers were weakly grasping at the air. She wasn’t paralyzed. Mendac thrust his shoulder into the demon’s massive thigh, but he couldn’t brace himself against the sludge. He tried every stance, but nothing worked.

  “Finally, he fell to his knees and put his hand in hers, and as he did, she grasped it firmly. He wanted to see her face. To feel her touch, but not have it accompanied by the sight of her loving smile, felt like death in its own right. He began crying harder as he felt her grip sta
rt to weaken.

  “Mendac kissed her fingers, begging her not to leave … but her hand went limp in his. He cried and cried and cried. It was a display of such raw emotion that Mendac had never shown before. He had a reputation for being a little cold-hearted, but Thusia could always mend that fault. He slouched over the ground and Thusia’s lifeless hand, not even realizing the king of the Dev Kingdom had used that opportunity to flee.”

  Grand Director Poicus looked at the coffin after he finished the story. Lilu, Rhyparia, and Jilly were wiping tears from their eyes. Olivia was wiping tears from Meow Meow’s eyes. But Toshik was scowling and shaking his head.

  “You don’t seem pleased, Toshik,” Spirit Director Neaneuma said.

  “As a member of the Adren Kingdom, I see no nobility in letting a lady die for you, Director Neaneuma.”

  She frowned. “So you don’t respect what she did?”

  “I have respect for what she did, but she shouldn’t have had to do it. I have zero respect for Mendac. The man should protect the lady.”

  “Why must you always think that way?” Jilly retorted. “A lady can protect a man!”

  “Quiet, Jilly,” Toshik snapped. “I’ve been protecting you since the day you became my Charge and it will always stay that way.”

  Jilly scrunched up her face. “You never let me protect myself.”

  Director Neaneuma smiled. “So that explains your logic, Toshik.” She glanced at the Adren Director to her right. “You Adren people are so dutiful.”

  “I’d hardly describe him that way,” Yama sneered. “He only cares about Jilly when she’s in danger. Otherwise, all of his attention is on any girl with a heartbeat. He can’t even fight properly unless there’s a pretty girl watching.”

  Toshik snorted and teased, “Your attitude may be beastly, but, physically, you would still fall in the pretty girl category.”

  A sharp gust of wind smacked Bryson in the face, which was odd since he hadn’t seen Jilly or the snowy-haired boy make any gestures to conjure their wind abilities.

  “Yama, go back to your seat and put it down,” came a deep, demanding voice. It was the tall, dark Adren Director.

  She was squatting behind Toshik’s back with her sword drawn across the front of his neck. Bryson realized that the wind was actually from how quickly Yama moved. All he had seen was a blur of colors. To the other, more untrained eyes, she had probably seemed to have disappeared. It was an intimidating show of her explosive power.

  Even still, Toshik didn’t falter. His face was relaxed as he sat with a leisurely posture. “You’re feisty,” he said with a sly smirk.

  “You’re disgusting,” Yama fired back. She sheathed her sword and returned to her cushion.

  Poicus cleared his throat. “We’re off to a great start.” He clapped his hands together. “Back on topic. You’ve all heard this story countless times throughout your childhood, so why would I tell it again?” He paused, but no one answered his question. “Because there is a valuable lesson—a lesson that will hold the ten of you together. You must know that each of you is important to the unit in your own unique way. When Thusia died, the Jestivan died. It could not persevere without her spirit. She was its engine.

  “It’s not all about raw ability.” He looked at Himitsu. “Or speed.” He looked at Yama. “Or who your parents were.” He looked at Bryson. “Or your sense of duty.” He looked at Toshik. “Or intelligence.” He looked at Lilu.

  “The Jestivan’s survival must also rely on essential factors such as composure.” He looked at Olivia. “And modesty.” He looked at Rhyparia. “And wisdom.” He looked at Agnos. “And prudence.” He looked at the unnamed boy with white hair. “And, of course, spirit.” He looked at Jilly.

  “What I’m saying is, don’t take any of your fellow litas or zanas for granted. Treat each other as equals. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Grand Director,” they responded in unison.

  Poicus’s face brightened. “Superb! Now we can get to the fun stuff. Tomorrow will be an interesting day to say the least. The Directors decided to split the group into two teams. For now, we’ll name them Team A and Team B since the Energy Directors didn’t like what I came up with.” He frowned. “You will be able to decide on your actual names when the teams come into fruition. So if there are ten of you, and we will be splitting you into two groups, how many people will be in each group?”

  The room went silent, for nobody wanted to give the obvious answer to the silly question—except perhaps for Jilly, whose face was contorted with concentration as she counted her fingers. Math was obviously not her strong point. Honestly, when it came to her mind, there probably weren’t many strong points, but Bryson gave her the benefit of the doubt.

  It took a while, but eventually realization dawned on her face. She raised her hand violently and started making huffing noises in order to be recognized.

  Grand Director Poicus and the Adren Director smiled while the rest of the Energy Directors couldn’t hold back their chuckles.

  “Yes, go ahead, Jilly,” Poicus said.

  “Five! Five to each group, Grand Director Poicus.”

  “That is correct.”

  The directors clapped softly, which would make anyone else think they were being mocked, but Jilly seemed elated as she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, exposing her blushing cheeks. The room’s atmosphere had shifted to positivity now that Mendac and Thusia’s story was done. It was a welcome change for Bryson.

  Poicus stood up. “It’s good to know we can all do math.” The Jestivan giggled. “Tomorrow, teams will be chosen. Two people will be assigned the role of captain for each team. As for how the captains will be determined … I’m not telling you—yet.

  “It could be the two tallest. Or, perhaps, the two cutest.” Poicus stroked his chin. “And if that were the parameters, and if I was a betting man, which I happen to be, my money would be on Olivia and Jilly.”

  “Director!” Director Venustas said as she smacked him on the back of the head. A chorus of laughter followed while Poicus rubbed his skull.

  The Archaic Director, head of the Morality Wing, rose from his seated position. He probably could have stayed seated, for standing barely increased his height. “I think I will finish this off in fright of our lovely Grand Director having another shameful slip of the tongue.

  “Captains and teams will be chosen tomorrow, and that is the extent of what you need to know. You all are dismissed. Have an ethical day.”

  6

  A Scorching Light

  Bryson gazed into the dreary, gray sky as he walked toward the front door of his house. He loved his kingdom for this reason. For 46 years, the sun had never shined in the Intel Kingdom. It was always clouds—dark, depressing clouds. They put him at peace. While his jubilance shined bright in a social setting, on the inside he was always a loner. Honestly, all he needed were a total of three people … Well, two people and a cat.

  Upon entering the house, Bryson removed his shoes and rested them next to the baseboard. He felt an urge to release some creativity, so he headed toward the family room. He wiggled his toes in the lush white carpet. He loved the soft feeling after a long and exhausting day.

  As he sat down in front of the piano, he relaxed his shoulders and breathed deeply, allowing his creative juices to start flowing. Considering the fact that the Intel Kingdom was more known for factual and logical expression, it was odd that Bryson had a creative outlet such as music. It was just another thing Meow Meow would tease him for. He smiled at the thought.

  He placed his fingers on the keys and started playing his favorite song. It represented a three-step, psychological evolution and it began with a subtle tapping of one key for fifteen seconds—seclusion—before entering a more complicated tune, but still at a turtle’s pace—sorrow. Slow and somber. Melodic and captivating. It was as if the piano was crying.

  During the slow part of the song, Bryson stared down the hallway at a wooden door that led to an unkno
wn closet. It was a door he had never stepped through during his eleven years of living in this house—not because of a lack of interest, but because it was impossible. A light shielded the door day and night.

  And that wasn’t the end to its oddities. The light had no visible source. There was no wick, and no Intel Energy was being pumped into it. But perhaps the most interesting aspect of the light was the danger it presented. And at that thought, Bryson looked down at his right index finger as it continued to dance across the piano keys. What was in there, that he would risk my life to protect?

  Bryson’s mind went blank as he approached the fastest section and final psychological step of the song—spite. His golden bangs fell in front of his face as his body started shifting aggressively with the dynamic harmonizing of the piano.

  “‘Phases of S,’ eh?” The unexpected intrusion jolted Bryson back into reality. The question came from a man leaning against the doorway. He had slipped into the house while Bryson was attentively vulnerable.

  “Always the same song—so predictable,” the man added with a smile.

  Bryson returned the warm smile while a bead of sweat ran down his forehead. “I’m definitely not spontaneous.”

  “No wonder you have no luck with the ladies.”

  It was a more recognizable Debo. Instead of his golden robe, he had on a bluish sweater that hugged his long torso, and loose-fitting dress pants to accompany it.

  “Interesting day,” Bryson said.

  “You’re right about that. But we’ll talk about it during supper.” Debo rolled up the sleeves of his sweater. “So what do you want me to make?” he eagerly asked.

  Bryson stood up and stretched. “Something that you’re not going to royally screw up.”

  Debo winked. “Then I guess I’ll try surf and turf!” he exclaimed before bolting toward the kitchen.

  Bryson laughed and shook his head. But when he turned to look down the hallway toward the closet door again, his expression became stern. He walked away while gripping himself from the sudden chill.