by Jamie Magee
Chapter Fifteen
This was going to be hard, the hardest thing I had ever done. I sucked in a deep breath and let the springs carry me in. I manifested a half-mile away from Silas. I couldn’t bring myself any closer, not yet.
He looked exhausted. Though his skin was still perfect, his clothes were torn, his hair was disheveled, and any glow in his eyes had faded.
He was walking away from me, staggering along the field he was in. Then all at once, he stopped and threw his head back and roared.
The skies opened at that instant, and his body became weightless as it bowed backward. That armor around his soul started to break away, and as it did masses of dark smoke billowed from his core, flowing into the sky. That flow went on forever. His body would twitch as he roared in obvious pain; this evil was ripping him apart.
It took all that I had not to stop it. I knew it wouldn’t make much sense for me to do such a thing, stop the pain, when my intent was to smite him.
A powerful, gleaming light poured from the open sky and cradled him as if he were a mere infant. The screams stopped then. His eyes closed as he dangled in the air in a fetal position.
The entire act had left him all but nude. His back was bare to me, and there were gaping holes in his pants.
The light intensified, and as it did he became more aware. He stretched out in the air, inviting the light in. The warm light he basked in pulled him to a standing position just before the ground and slowly spun him as if to ensure that each part of him were cleansed.
When his front faced me, I lost the will to breathe as I fell to my knees. Across his soul was a jagged mark, a mark that spelled out MAZING.
Pure light was shining through each letter. I could swear it was flashing at me, demanding that I look at it.
The armor of a Witness manifested around his soul like a cocoon, shielding the name of my First from sight. Silas was gently let down, and he didn’t stand; the entire event had left him exhausted. Instead, he let his body fall to the grass and his eyes closed as he fell into a deep sleep.
I stood to run to him, but then I froze in place. That was Colton, or was at one time. That was the soul Mazing found a rush in, the one that she had coupled with, the one for which she had both rage and grief for.
There was no way out of this. If I killed him, I killed Mazing, which in my state of hindered power would hurt me to the point of no recovery. It would also hurt Vade immeasurably. I couldn’t do this whilst Vade was in the presence of those kings; they would see it and strike.
This was a tangled web that I could not manage to see through.
Silas was not a Fated Escort. He was a fated soul.
I could not understand what I had done to deserve such a punishment. Why were the two sovereigns that adored their charge tormented this way, whilst the ones that betrayed that sacred charge lived in bliss?
“That was a mighty fine sunset,” I heard a familiar voice say as the smell of a pipe tingled my nose.
I glanced behind me to see the Cowboy sitting on a bench. Not only had he managed to make it to the very edge of the Veil, but he had also figured out how to manifest objects. I guess it wasn’t his first walk into the sunset after all.
He was smoking his pipe and carving a rather large stick.
“Cowboy,” I breathed, not really caring to have company while I stared at my doom.
“Manifested this here bench for you, pretty lady. Now do me the honor of sitting a spell with me.”
Why the hell not? I all but fell onto the bench, keeping my eyes firmly locked on Silas’ sleeping body.
“You look troubled.”
“Family problems.”
“Are there any other kind?”
That kinda made me smile on the inside. “Suppose all roads lead to one.”
“Do tell,” he said with a bit of a grunt as he dug deep into the wood in his hands.
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“I’m not asking you to tell me so I will understand. I’m asking you to tell me so you will,” he said with a puff of his pipe.
I didn’t think I had the mind power to play this game, to think of the time he had lived in and alter my dialogue and story to fit something that would have occurred in his time, so he was just going to have to hear it raw.
“My father despises me.”
That caused him to halt his knife against the wood he was carving. “Why on Earth would you think that?”
“I failed Him,” I breathed.
“That is no reason to despise someone. And no child can fail their father.”
“It was an epic fail. I’m sure He regrets my birth.”
“No father does such a thing.”
I smirked. Maybe in his time, but I’d seen quite a few horrid fathers in my time. I never would have placed my Creator with the likes of them, but nevertheless my Creator had a valid reason to regret such a choice. “Well, like I said, I failed Him. I wanted to be His voice, stand up to the others in our family and defend Him, but my wrath stopped me from that.”
“Wrath can be quite powerful,” the Cowboy said, returning his attention back to the stick he was carving.
“And damning.”
“Explain to me how you failed him,” he said with a puff of his pipe and a strong force against the stick he was shaping.
It was hard to say it because I really didn’t know how. “Apparently, He has been trying to teach me something for some time now. I can’t hear Him, so I didn’t learn it. And because I didn’t, I lost those He entrusted in my care. I lost the man I—I care about.”
“I see. What does your Ma say about this?”
“I have no mother.”
“You just appeared here?” he said with a chuckle.
That made me smirk; if he only knew. “A woman gave birth to me and hated me for it.”
“So a vessel brought you into this world, poorly looked after you, then your father took you away and became your teacher?”
How the hell did he gather that so quickly?
“Basically.”
“And you feel that you have let him down.”
“Right.”
“Interesting…tell me, what kind of lesson would he have wanted to teach you?”
I shrugged my shoulders.
“You know that he is speaking to you, though? You sense a lesson?”
“I didn’t sense it. I was told that was what was occurring.”
A frown came to the Cowboy. I knew this was too confusing for anyone to understand, no matter in what time you were born.
“That boy in the field, what is his story?” the Cowboy asked, focusing on his stick once more.
I clenched my jaw. “It’s a tragic one.”
“Listening.”
“Well, apparently as an infant he was kidnapped and abused. Later, a girl fell for his heart. When that affair was discovered, they were both murdered. His essence was rescued by a beautiful light, then discovered again by the one that had kidnapped him before. Now, he stands between what he was and what he is…he was given a charge, and if he fulfills that charge he will end up killing masses—including the girl he fell for—which I suppose was my father’s point.”
“Now there, Glory, you’re a beautiful soul, pure at your core. No father of yours would ever plot this course the way you see it.”
“Black and white.”
He leaned forward on his knees and gazed at the sleeping body of Silas. After a pause, he glanced to his side at me. “Mazing.”
“Yeah. He was hers.”
“Seems like ‘is.’”
I moved my head from side to side. “His actions now will destroy her.”
“Does he know that?”
“No, and even if he did it would not matter because he has to feel for another and have that emotion returned in order to hold his charge.”
“Feel?” he questioned.
I cringed. “Yeah. Something my race cannot do. Even if he came to the past that he belongs to, Mazin
g could not return the emotion he needs in order to fight.”
“Are you sure of that?” he asked, leaning back and adjusting his position on the seat to a more comfortable one.
“Very.”
“I see. I’m right in assuming that you are saying that your dear friend Mazing cannot feel love?”
I balled my fist. “Right.”
“Well, that’s impossible.”
“Trust me, it is not.”
“I’ve stood in her presence. She has a soul.” I glanced at him with questioning eyes. “A soul is love; that is what it is made of. Mazing can love this boy...I would dare say that she does.”
“I’m going to be blunt with you, Cowboy. I was created to rise above that uniform of souls. I guard them, take away what they can’t handle. We cannot feel such an emotion or even state it because if we connect and are later hurt, it will hurt them.”
“What rule book are you reading from, Glory?” he asked with sadness in his tone.
I looked to my side at his waiting sky blue eyes, framed with the cutest little wrinkles. I reached to pat his leg. “An old one.”
“Authored by?”
“Those that came before me.”
“And I assume you trust them?”
“Not all of them.”
“The ones that you do trust, what do they say about this?”
I moved my eyes back to the field. After a long pause, I answered, “I am a sovereign, and this issue has to do with my line of souls. I have no need to discuss it with anyone.”
“Is that a blush I see?” he said with a chuckle. “You love him.”
I tensed and glanced to my side at him, then rigidly kept my stare on Silas. I wasn’t sure what ‘him’ he was referring to, and it didn’t really matter anyhow.
“You only trust one, and you trust him because you love him. You loved him the first instant you saw him.”
“Cowboy, tread carefully. I’m already in a foul mood.”
“Well, I would be, too, if I was too stubborn and afraid to say what I feel, if I buried myself behind an armor of anger, not daring to let anyone see the real me.”
“I cannot say or feel what you speak of.”
“Do you honestly think that you can tell yourself not to? That emotions can be turned off or on at will?”
“I’ve turned off quite a few.”
“You altered them; you didn’t turn them off.”
“Whatever.”
“So Mazing loves that boy in the field. More than likely, considering how teed off she was last I saw her, she has no idea he is alive. And you, too, are in love with a man.”
I wondered for a second how Mazing would react to this. Silas’ vessel did not look the same as Colton’s. I wondered if she would even notice. Then I thought over how amped up she became each time I went to speak to Silas and she was shielded. I suppose it wouldn’t matter. I also knew that telling her, letting her see him, would do nothing more than hurt her more deeply. Death would separate them once more.
“I’m alive. Therefore, I do not feel that emotion.”
“On the contrary, maybe you are alive because you do feel such an emotion.”
I was only vaguely paying attention to him now. I kept trying to figure out what would be the right thing to do for Mazing, if she should know this or not.
“Tell me, Cowboy, at death what is the biggest regret?”
“You want me to be blunt?”
My soul seized for some odd reason. “Yes, that would be nice.”
“They regret not telling the ones they left behind how much they loved them. That is the only request the Reaper hears over and over again.”
“You could hear what they said?” I asked, furrowing my brow. I’d watched that procession more times than I could remember. The words spoken to the Reaper were silent to my ears. I could only hear his response.
“How could you not? Were you not listening?”
There was that seize again, and no reason at all to feel it.
“Tell me again how you have forsaken your Father, how that has anything to do with that boy in the field, and Mazing.”
“They are in my care. Children, if you will. I was supposed to guard them, lead them, be the example and restore my race; instead, wrath and stubbornness consumed me. I lost everything, and whilst talking with the likes of the dead, evil was created. There is no way out now. He is clearly telling me that I have no options, that this race is over.”
“You can’t hear His lesson, but you sense His intent?”
“That, I do.”
“So you are cured from your wrath and stubbornness?”
“Not at all.”
“Ah, but you have at least overcome your past, realized that the words your Ma spoke over you were false, that she made you stronger while assuming she was making your weaker.”
My eyes glassed over as I tried to swallow my emotions.
“You know what I think?” he pushed.
I looked away so I could wipe away the tears that had escaped.
“I think you have felt love from day one in this sacred life you were chosen for, but you did not know that because you never received it as a child. You put a shield around you, a thick armor of wrath. There is a girl behind that armor that wants out, that can show you that it is safe to feel what your fear.” He paused. “You ignore her and instead you look for the fall, the evil, and you find it. Every single time.”
“Maybe, just maybe, Cowboy, I was chosen for this life because my Creator knew that, because He would never have to fear that I would say or feel something so deadly.”
“Or maybe He wanted you to be the example you asked Him to be.”
“How? Mass suicide? Killing the last two lines that support Him?” I bit out.
“What did you tell me in the cathedral about children?” he asked in a very blunt tone.
“They go with their guides. Into the light.”
He pointed to the field. “In a sense, is he not a child of yours?”
“In a sense.”
“And he went into the light. All children go into the light instantly—no pause.”
I questioned him with an absent stare. I wasn’t sure I had revealed that to him, but he was a smart man. If he had witnessed that light cradling Silas just moments ago, he could have easily made that assumption.
“That, he did.”
“Now that boy feels what you fear; Now he needs such a thing for survival, now he has a charge that you hold in high regard.”
“Right.” Metallic energy was more than merely held in high regard. It would be what saved us all.
He leaned back against the bench and adjusted his hat. “Well, then the rest of ‘em in your charge should do the same, go to the light. At least that way Mazing will be with the soul she has ached for—oh, and that charge of his will be intensely protected.”
Now there was an original idea. If I could manage to turn my line into Witnesses, Mazing into one, then Silas would have no reason to make advances toward that girl named Charlie because he would have Mazing, she would be able to give him what he needed to survive. The threat against Vade’s line would perish.
“Good theory, I like it. Happen to have a few million Witnesses in your back pocket that would raise an entire line of Escorts?”
His glance was near humorous. The title of an escort meant something completely different in his time.
He pointed to the sky. “That light looked like it would do just fine, and if that is the only solider it has,” he said, nodding to Silas. “I don’t reckon that it would hesitate to take you up on your offer.”
I let out a deep breath. The Cowboy was right: this light would take in my Escorts at their death and create more of the energy that Silas was. No doubt.
I should feel great agony, for I knew that Silas’ creation had in effect brought about my extinction, but I could not find that emotion. I couldn’t find it because I realized that even though my life would end, my essence would live on.<
br />
I also realized that I asked for this creation the moment I asked to be allowed to be the solution to what my fellow kings were doing. That was when this course of existence was put into motion.
I set my energy free, something I would not have done unless my hand was forced, and when I did a Witness was able to claim it…the Creator used me to create His weapon. Quite literally.
My decision was made. I would not now or ever smite Silas. Killing him would kill the next evolution of my kind. That could not happen.
“Wheels are turning, aren’t they, Glory?”
“You were right, talking to you did help me to understand what was in front of me.”
He didn’t seem to agree as his blue eyes looked over me. “I see no peace in your eyes.”
“It’s there. I just have to grieve for the past first.”
“Why grief?” he questioned.
“For it is over.”
“Glory, you may have found a solution for your children, but I’m still mighty concerned about you. Your father’s intentions began with you.”
“And He is wise, my line will continue the fight that I could not.”
He seemed flustered with me, but he wasn’t angry; he was sad that I thought so lowly of myself.
I rapidly moved my hands across my legs, building my adrenaline up. “Cowboy, I thank you for your ear, but I want to advise you that whomever you promised to meet in the Veil has long moved on, and so should you. Your voice is needed in the world.”
“I’ve met her already.”
“Her. Did she move on?”
“Not quite.”
“Why did the two of you choose to meet in the Veil?”
“We didn’t really choose the place, but the point,” he said as he took one last strike against the stick he had been aimlessly working on, then set it between us.
I halted my hands and looked at him.
“She made me vow to her that if she ever lost sight of bliss that I would guide her back to it.”
I began to tremble. I had said such words. Not to him, but to my Creator.
“How fare thee with that charge?” I said with a wide-eyed stare that was pouring into his blue eyes.
“Not well, I’m afraid. She does not see how precious she is to me and to those with her.”
