by August Arrea
After successfully solving a couple of cerebrally taxing puzzles and answering correctly three questions that put his philosophical prowess through the paces, Jacob found himself at the halfway point of the intricate maze where he came upon an obstacle—a solid wall of hard earth—blocking his way. With no sign of a puzzle, riddle or stumper in sight that called upon his mental agility to open some hidden door and win him passage though the impregnable wall impeding him from advancing further, he realized the test before him rested in his ability to successfully make use of one of the two main things he was sorely lacking when he came to participate in Illumination: one of the blasted Graces.
At least, technically.
Sure, the Blackstone had continued to deem him as Graceless as a ballerina with two left feet attached backwards at the ankles, to borrow a pun from Max. However, Jacob had also learned quite by accident the night he helped coach Ethan in exercising his own Grace of Cloaking that he somehow, inexplicably, also had the ability to change shape. Seeing it was the only card in his deck with which he had to play, Jacob studied the wall before deciding his best course of action was to change himself into a squirrel or badger and burrow his way through the earthen barrier. Just as the pupils of his eyes were about to reflect the critter he focused his transformation on, he heard a faint voice. It came from an ant, and being as it was so tiny and the surroundings so dark, it took Jacob a minute or two before he spied the minuscule insect perched upon the end of his sneaker. The ant offered its services to help, and Jacob who was stunned by the fact he was having a conversation with the insect asked as inoffensively as he could what possible assistance the tiny creature could give.
“Not much, if it were just me,” said the ant. “But I am not alone.”
In an instant, the ground, walls and ceiling of the underground cavern was moving with a massive swarm of ants. They descended upon the wall and in a matter of seconds the fortified barrier of earth disintegrated. The swarm of ants then disappeared as quickly as they came, and as Jacob saw the passage leading to his victory now unobstructed in front of him he could help but mull silently whether he had just taken part in a bit of unsportsmanlike cheating.
“Not when the removal of the obstacle is dependent upon a Grace,” came the ant’s voice again, as if it could hear Jacob’s thoughts. “And not when the competitor standing before it has the gift to call out to those who can hear his Whisper.”
Whisper…
Could it possibly be, Jacob found himself wondering, that he had yet another undetected Grace lurking inside him unbeknownst himself, or Zuriel and, more importantly, the Blackstone? Intriguing a thought as it was, he quickly laughed off such a notion. He did, however, emerge from “The Underground” with an extra spring in his step when he was greeted with cheers as he stepped back into the sunlight radiating Lions Bite. For the rest of the day, Jacob proved himself a worthy competitor during Illumination and, despite lacking the two important tools needed to compete, he managed with the athleticism and sheer determination at hand to emerge victorious time and time again against those he went up against who came armed with a full tool belt.
And so, after a grueling demonstration of strength and, as Anahel promised, a great amount of sweat, the day of games wound itself down to the next to last competition, and no one was more surprised than Jacob to find himself among the last seven Nephilim still standing. Nothing, however, could have prepared him for the next event awaiting him which would decide which five boys would go on to compete in the hunt for the Illume, even when he spied seven angels rolling into the arena the means to which the final contestants would battle it out over a coveted victory.
In something straight out of “Ben-Hur,” seven chariots were lined up at the far end of the arena; only there were no horses attached to them. It wasn’t until the seven boys were directed to their assigned chariot did it become clear they would be the horses running the race. As Jacob stood while one of the angels fitted him with a harness around his mid-section that secured him to his chariot, he looked to his competition. To his right, he was happy to see Max was in the running.
“Is this a ripper or what?” exclaimed his amped-up friend.
Jacob wasn’t certain whether “ripper” meant good or bad, but judging from the way Max was beaming as he was being strapped into his leather harness attached to his chariot like a stallion on two legs he assumed his friend was stoked for the challenge. Looking to his left, Jacob was equally unhappy to see Creed’s sweaty face. Yet, as physically exhausted as Jacob was at that moment, having his nemesis right beside him might be exactly what he needed to push himself to get to the finish line in the same way a mechanical rabbit drives speed out of greyhound at the racetrack.
When all seven boys were finally bridled to their chariots, the race began. Immediately, in the first step he took, Jacob knew this race would be the most strenuous to his muscles and taxing to his drive than any of the previous contests he had competed in that day. The weight of the chariot provided a constant drag and proved unrelenting to the increasing burn flaming up inside his legs. Nine times around the arena, the race called for, but it might as well have been nine hundred times around. The arena carried the clamor of cheers coming from the angels watching with enthusiasm from the sidelines, but the only sound to meet Jacob’s ears was the pounding of feet against the ground and the grinding of the chariots’ wheels mixed with the strained, snorting grunts coming from the boys as they fought for the lead with the weight of their load wrestling them like a dropped anchor. Now and again, in a bit of nasty maneuvering, chariots sideswiped one another and testosterone-fueled bodies rammed and elbowed each other in an effort to win ground. Creed, especially, focused such dirty tricks on Jacob, but Jacob managed to fight off his aggressive plays and keep himself and his chariot from veering off course, or worse. When the chariots finally entered the final stretch accompanied by a cloud of kicked-up dust, it was clear by all watching, victory would be determined by a nose, or a chest, as all seven Nephilim made their dash toward the finish line.
~~~
When the dust from the chariot race had finally settled and the runners had been given a moment to catch their breath, quench their thirst and cool their sweating selves with a splash of water, Anahel came forward and gave an approving nod to the competitors gathered in the center of the arena looking famished and exhausted.
“You have all shown yourself worthy of the angel blood flowing through your veins, and a testament to the teachings and wisdom bestowed upon you by the Guides of Eden. You each serve your father’s name with honor and I have no doubt they stand here today as proud of what you have accomplished already in your short time here as I am,” he said. “That said, there are five among you who have shown yourself today to be most impressive. And as such, you will move on to compete against one another in the final competition of the day: the hunt and capture of the Illume.”
A grumbling of excitement swirled about the expectant seven Nephilim anxiously awaiting to hear who amongst them had emerged victorious in the too-close-to-call chariot race and would move on to compete in the most prestigious event of the Illumination.
“When I say your name, please step forward.”
Anahel stared out at the young faces whose eyes were intently fixed on him, and in his pause he could both hear and see the growing restlessness rising both from the boys as well as their fathers seated nearby as the silence became almost too unbearable a suffering for them. Finally, his lips parted, and the powerful tenor of his voice sounded with the first name.
“Creed, son of Sandel.”
The announcement was by no means a surprise revelation to either the other Nephilim or Creed himself. With an entitled swagger, he made his way toward Anahel shoving aside his fellow competitors who stood in the way of his rightful path. He then turned to bask in the adulatory applause which was led by his father standing proud at his seat like a preening albino peacock.
When the roar died down and his voice cou
ld be heard once more, Anahel continued. “Issac, son of Bariel. Michael, son of Irel. Maximilian, son of Gradiel.”
The three came forward beaming proudly while receiving congratulatory pats on their backs from the other boys who seemed pleased with the choices, even if it meant not hearing their own names called. Only Creed didn’t seem particularly thrilled when he found himself suddenly being forced to share the spotlight.
“And finally, the fifth Nephilim who will compete in the final competition will be…,” began Anahel, his gaze making its way through the faces of the other boys before coming to rest on Jacob. “Jacob, son of…”
The happy glint in his eyes dimmed as he abruptly drew silent when he realized the announcement he was in the midst of making allowed no way for it to be concluded, and his face suddenly became grievous. The brief moment of joy that visited Jacob also dissipated when he knew instantly the reason Anahel’s tongue had become twisted into silence. Embarrassment swept over him as he felt every eye fall upon him, and just when he wished with everything he had that the earth beneath his feet would show mercy upon him by performing the simple act of opening up and swallowing him whole, there came a neigh of a horse. It was quickly accompanied by a familiar, if not unexpected voice.
“Ward of Gothamel.”
The collective attention of everyone gathered at Lions Bite turned in unison to the western end of the arena where to everyone’s surprise Gotham emerged from the shadows of the towering stone walls. No one, however, looked to be more in shock at the angel’s reappearance than Jacob. The arena became silent except for the chattering of birds chirping loudly with excitement from the trees of the nearby Forest as Gotham came forward. Only he was not alone. With him was a magnificent white stallion which he led with a garland of ivy noosed loosely around its neck. The Nephilim cleared a path as Gotham made his way with the horse to where Jacob stood.
“I say ward because it is the role that has been left me,” said Gotham to the boy, but with a voice intended to reach every ear in the arena. “But make no mistake, I would be more than proud to call him son.”
The angel’s words stirred a buzz of whispers, but it was Jacob who was found to be most taken aback. He knew Gotham well enough to know he was not prone to saccharine-laced sentiments, and even as the angel spoke them his steely composure was broken only barely by the faintest of smiles.
“How long have you been here?” asked Jacob.
“Long enough to be impressed by your performance today,” answered Gotham. “It reminded me of when David competed here so many years ago. His name, too, was among the five read by Anahel then.” Gotham’s eyes remained fixed on Jacob, but they were focused on the memory of which he spoke. “Illumination was a day of great importance to him, as it is to all Fledglings, as I’m sure it is to you. And while I’m not your father, I couldn’t, therefore, let you spend it without someone at your side.
“Besides,” he quickly added in an effort to steer clear of making the moment more sentimental than it needed to be when he saw a pleasing smile come to Jacob’s face, “I certainly couldn’t let you attempt this competition without some kind of fighting chance.”
He then reached out and offered up the rope of ivy in his hand and the horse to which it was attached. Visibly surprised, Jacob took the lead and as he did the stallion stepped toward him and took in the scent of the boy’s hand .
“It’s one of the Snowdrifts, isn’t it?” asked Jacob, though he already knew just by looking at the magnificent animal. Its hide and mane was whiter than any color white Jacob had ever seen—blindly so. And like snow it shined and glittered under the bright sunlight as if the horse had been dusted with tiny grains of crystal.
“He’ll carry you today and any time you call for him from this day forward,” said Gotham. Jacob stared deep into the steed’s dark yet kind eyes, and he knew what the angel said was true.
~~~
“I object!” a voice suddenly bellowed from the arena seats. Jacob looked to find Sandel on his feet in protest. “This is a contest between Nephilim, and Nephilim alone. Your attempt to aid this one with a horse is nothing short of cheating.”
The outburst didn’t seem to surprise Gotham. In fact, from the look on his face, it was as if he expected it.
“The boy, as you can see Sandel, has yet to come into his wings while the others have,” replied Gotham coolly without so much as a glance over his shoulder at the angel. “You know as well as I he doesn’t stand a chance in the competition with just the aid of his own feet. Do you think that fair?”
“Rules are rules,” countered Sandel. “I think everyone here would agree with me that the boy has had the same opportunity as the others to earn his wings. Should they be put at a disadvantage because one amongst them has proven himself inadequate?”
The disdainful tone with which Sandel spoke made Gotham turn a fierce, challenging eye on him. “I hear only yourself making issue of this. Could it perhaps be because you lack confidence in your own son’s ability to match wing with hoof?”
The cutting assertion muted Sandel’s tongue momentarily, and in the awkward pause that followed Anahel took the opportunity to keep the disruption from escalating as the two angels glowered at one another.
“I see nothing unfair or underhanded with Jacob riding the animal in this contest if he so chooses,” said Anahel. “You know as well as anyone here, Sandel, that without wings the boy will still be at a considerable disadvantage. A capable Nephilim can more than easily outmaneuver a horse, even a Snowdrift. But, seeing as how you have raised the objection concerning fairness, I would be more than happy to ensure that you, and everyone present in this arena, find satisfaction that an even playing field has been set in place by making horses available to any of the other four competitors, should they so choose.”
Creed was quick to respond first to the offer before his father could open his mouth.
“I can assure you, I won’t be needing any horse,” he said snidely before leveling a smirking scowl at Jacob.
The other three boys also declined with a simple nod of their head.
“Very well. Then the matter is settled and we can now move on to the contest,” said Anahel with a thankful sigh. Clearly bristling from the outcome, Sandel reluctantly sank back into his seat while continuing to stare daggers in Gotham’s direction.
“Make no mistake, the task before you will not be an easy one, wings or not,” continued Anahel, speaking to the five he had earlier named to compete in the contest. “Unlike the other animals of Eden, the Illume is an elusive creature who lives a nearly mythological existence out of sight from both Nephilim and angel alike. This day is the one time of the year that the Illume emerges from hiding deep inside the corner of forest touched by the looming shadow of the western peaks. It is there that what may be the most beautiful bird ever hatched into creation ventures out for a brief period in a futile search of a mate. I say futile because there has only ever been one Illume in existence.”
“How will we know what it looks like or where to look for it?” asked Issac, curiously.
“There will be no mistaking the Illume the moment you lay eyes upon it, though it will likely be the unique clicking sound it makes that will first alert you to its presence.
“Be mindful; you will only have a short amount of time in order to prove yourself victorious in the task before you,” continued Anahel. “The Illume’s beauty is quite striking, but never is it more stunning than when witnessed in the presence of the moon whose light causes the Illume’s plumes to radiate with a striking shimmer as though it were powdered with star dust. So luminous it is that when the light of day retires so, too, will the Illume; driven back to whatever dark, secreted place it conceals itself to douse its resplendent beauty in the desire of keeping its existence invisible to all to attempt to search it out.”
It was then that Creed let out an impatient huff. “It’s a little bird. How hard can it be to catch?” he muttered under his breath, though not low eno
ugh to escape Anahel’s ears.
“Well then, if it sounds like a walk in the park, by all means it must be,” said the angel in a subtly ominous tone while turning a quieting glare onto Creed. “You’d be wise, Mr. Maggert, if you’re serious to win this challenge, not to underestimate the Illume. Some of the most beautiful creatures ever to exist have proven themselves to be the most indomitable…and dangerous.”
He was speaking, of course, of the Illume, but his words at the same time could easily have been a wink and nod at his own existence as well as the other angels filling the arena, something that was not lost on the other boys.
Anahel then proceeded to pass out a black sack to each boy, who looked them over with notable confusion. They were large sacks made of soft fabric, much too large for just a bird.
“The Illume will give up quite a fight, of that you should prepare yourself,” said Anahel. “To quiet the fight, you will need to get the sack over its head and cover its eyes.”
Again the boys looked with some bewilderment at the sacks which looked like they could each hold a hundred birds much less serve as a hood for the head of one. In their increasing eagerness to get the final contest underway, however, they simply tucked their sacks away and prepared themselves for the competition to finally begin.
“There’s just one more thing,” said Anahel, addressing the five boys in a firm tone. “Be cautious in your quest. No matter the circumstance, no injury or harm must come to the Illume in your pursuit of it. Should one of you prove victorious in this task, the creature must be returned back to the Forest later this very night precisely as it was before you gave chase after it.”
