by MJ Schutte
‘You have a question for me?’ he said with crumbs flying everywhere.
Brighton decided to jump right in.
‘This morning I saw a black panther and her cub, about a day old.’
He didn’t want to tell Thomas what really happened so he thought to change the story a bit.
‘The cub was eating meat. Is that normal?’
‘Yes, that is quite normal for a black panther,’ Thomas confirmed.
Brighton pressed on.
‘Something else, the cub had completely white eyes. Have you ever seen that?’
‘How close were you to these panthers?’ Thomas asked.
‘Um…not that close,’ Brighton stammered.
‘You must have been very close if you could see the colour of the cub’s eyes. They are extremely dangerous animals you know,’ Thomas admonished.
Brighton shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He hated telling lies but he did not really want anyone to know what actually happened.
‘Don’t worry young Brighton, I won’t tell anyone you’re playing with black panthers,’ Thomas chuckled.
‘To answer your question: No, I’ve never seen any animal with white eyes. Perhaps it’s blind?’
Before he thought it through Brighton answered, ‘No, he followed my finger easily. He is not blind.’
‘Your finger? You were a lot closer to these animals than you’re letting on,’ Thomas said.
Brighton knew he said too much, he needed to tell the truth.
‘Ok, I’ll tell you what happened but please promise not to tell anyone,’ he pleaded.
‘You have my word,’ Thomas said solemnly.
‘I found the mother last night busy giving birth but it wasn’t going well. The cub was coming out hind legs first. I helped release the cub from the mother.’
‘How did it survive?’ Thomas asked.
‘I don’t know,’ Brighton answered. ‘At first I thought it was dead but then it started breathing and by this morning when Lilian and I went there, it was running around like nothing was wrong.’
‘Incredible,’ Thomas gasped.
‘While we were sitting with the two panthers Lilian showed me Mischief’s eyes. They were completely white.’
‘Mischief?’
‘Yes, that’s what Lilian named the cub. The mother is Velvet.’
‘How sweet of her, Lilian is a very special child,’ Thomas mused.
Remembering the kiss from earlier and seeing her in that white dress Brighton muttered, ‘Not so much a child anymore.’
Thomas looked at Brighton closely.
‘You love her,’ he stated.
‘Well, yes. She is my best friend. Actually, she is my only friend. She is like a sister to me.’
‘I don’t mean like that young man. I mean you’re in love with her, yes?’
Brighton’s face instantly went red and it felt like his ears were burning.
‘I……uh…..well……Can we rather talk about the panthers please?’ he pleaded.
‘As soon as you answer my question: Are you in love with Lilian?’ Thomas pressed.
‘She is a child,’ Brighton defended heatedly.
‘And you’re an adult?’ Thomas countered.
‘No, I mean Lily is so much younger than me. She doesn’t even have…um….like some of the other girls. She has no……’
‘Breasts?’
Brighton stared at his feet and wished the earth would swallow him.
‘Yes, those,’ he said softly.
Thomas poked Brighton in the chest with his walking stick.
‘What does that matter?’
Brighton did not answer because he could not think of one. Thomas was right it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he did love Lilian.
‘I know she is slow to develop but there are many years ahead of you both. Enjoy your time together now and don’t be too hasty with any decision pertaining to matters of the heart,’ Thomas advised.
‘The age difference seems big now but when you’re twenty one, she will be eighteen. Not that much different is it?’
‘No, I guess not.’
‘Be patient young Brighton and enjoy your youth. All too quickly you will be old like me,’ Thomas sighed.
‘But how will I know if she loves me?’ Brighton asked.
‘He who knows the heart of a woman will be king forever,’ Thomas said cryptically.
Brighton frowned.
‘What does that mean?’
‘It means you will never know if she loves you. You will just have to guess.’
‘I think Lily loves me,’ Brighton said confidently. ‘She kissed me just before I came here.’
‘If that is the case then I am very glad for you, young man. I never found love, hopefully you will.’
Thomas reached for the cup of lemon juice. Brighton didn’t like lemon juice all that much, but he didn’t want to seem rude so he took a sip from his mug. He was not prepared for the shock that followed. It was all he could do to swallow the small sip of lemon juice. He nearly spat it all over the table.
‘DEAR ANGELS! WHAT IS THAT?’ he cried out.
‘Lemon juice,’ Thomas said.
‘Don’t you dilute it?’ Brighton asked with a pained look on his face.
‘No, but I’m guessing you don’t like it very much,’ Thomas replied.
‘No, I don’t. How can you drink it like that?’
‘Years of practice,’ Thomas said with a wink.
‘How many years? A hundred? I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it,’ Brighton exclaimed.
‘More like five hundred,’ Thomas said, closely watching Brighton’s face.
Brighton looked up expecting to see a smile on the old man’s lips but instead Thomas’ face was dead serious.
‘Five hundred years?’ Brighton gasped. ‘How old are you?’
‘Five hundred and sixty three.’
‘You’re joking with me!’
‘I wish I was, but it’s the truth.’
Flabbergasted Brighton asked, ‘How is that possible? Are you a magician or a sorcerer?’
Thomas said softly, ‘Everyone knows magicians only exist in bedtime stories designed to scare little children. No, I’m not a magician, sorcerer or a warlock or any of those mythical things. I am something much worse.’
‘Then what are you?’
‘I’ll tell you but first I must have your promise that you will not share this information with anyone, not even Lilian.’
‘You have my word,’ Brighton said solemnly, mimicking Thomas’ words from earlier.
‘I inherited a gift from my ancestors.’
‘A gift?’
‘Yes. Some call it a gift, others call it a talent, some, like me, call it a curse.’
Brighton leaned forward.
‘What is it?’
‘Perhaps I should start at the beginning then you might understand better. Around three thousand years ago, two babies were born. A boy and a girl.’
‘Brother and sister?’ Brighton asked.
‘No, they were unrelated. These babies were gifted in the sense that they could steal or leech energy from other living things.’
‘Energy? What do you mean energy?’ Brighton enquired.
‘All living things have energy. You eat some biscuits or bread and this is transformed in your body into energy. You use this energy to live. This energy is basically, the life force in you. Do you understand?’
‘I think so,’ Brighton said.
‘Think about it like this. If you don’t eat you will get weak and eventually die, is that right?’
‘Yes.’
‘So, eating food provides you with the energy to live. Those panthers we spoke of earlier, they catch a goat or buck and eat it. This is their source of energy. The goat eats grass, which is his source of energy. Grass sucks water through their roots from the ground, which provides them with the energy to live.
‘So you see, all living things need to have
a source of energy to live from.’
‘I see,’ Brighton said slowly.
‘Now, these two babies didn’t have to eat or drink. They had a talent for stealing energy straight from other living things. The two of them grew up and were drawn together because of this talent. They eventually got married and had eight children.
‘They became known as the Dark Father and Dark Mother and their children call themselves the Supremes. Their descendants are called Dark Ones.’
‘Call themselves the Supremes?’ Brighton asked. ‘Surely you mean called. They must be long dead if they were born three thousand years ago.
‘No,’ Thomas answered. ‘They still live. This talent for stealing life force or energy kept them young. The Dark Father and Dark Mother had to touch other living things to steal their energy but the talent was much stronger in their children. They could do it over great distances.’
Brighton frowned.
‘What do you mean: over great distances?’
‘The Supremes don’t have to physically touch another living thing. They can steal energy from far away. If you have the talent, you can see it happening. For those who are ungifted this happens without them even knowing.’
Brighton thought of the man in the clearing and the smoke that attacked them.
‘What does it look like?’ he asked.
‘I’ve only seen it once but I will never forget it. Many years ago, when I was still living in Zedonia…’
‘What is Zedonia?’ Brighton interrupted.
‘It’s a city where the Supremes live. Now stop interrupting or I will never finish.’
‘Sorry,’ Brighton mumbled.
‘As I was saying, when I lived in Zedonia an uprising against the Supremes started. The Supremes have ruled like a royal family for many years and some people thought it was time for a change. Nobody elected them as the rulers, they simply decided that they were better than everybody else was and took control. Because of their dark talent, nobody could stand up against them. Many years later a group of brave men decided it was time for a change and challenged the Supremes to meet them in the open for a battle. The victors earn the right to rule the land. The Supremes live in a cave inside a hill in the middle of Zedonia. They are very seldom seen but on that day seven of the eight came out to meet the brave warriors.’
Brighton started interrupting but Thomas cut him off.
‘Don’t think that they are barbarians because they live in a cave. It’s actually a series of caves and rumoured to be the most luxurious accommodation anyone has ever seen.
‘The Supremes force ungifted people to work in the caves as slaves. Apparently, there are marble floors and golden ceilings everywhere.
‘The walls are decorated with gold, silver, precious gems and the finest tapestries in the land. I’ve never seen it but have heard many stories about it. It is simply called ‘The Palace’.
‘Anyway, the seven Supremes came out of the palace and met the warriors in the centre of town. Before anyone could speak, Seth, the oldest Supreme, stepped forward, raised his hand and something that looked like black smoke seemed to appear from his palm. The smoke, about as thick as his arm, shot out towards the leader of the warriors and slammed right into his head. There was nothing the poor man could do; he was dead in a heartbeat.
The smoke did not go away. It slammed into the next man’s head. He did not die instantly like the first one but fell to the ground, his body twisting in pain. Seth smiled and looked at the crowd. With a flick of his wrist, the black smoke left the man’s head and retracted back into Seth’s palm. Seth spoke only briefly, before the seven Supremes retreated to their caves. He said, “Nobody will challenge us!”
‘That was the last time any of the Supremes, except Seth, were seen outside the palace.’
‘How long ago?’ Brighton asked.
‘Many years. I was young back then,’ Thomas replied.
‘How did the smoke kill the warriors?’ Brighton asked.
‘It wasn’t really the smoke that killed them; it was Seth that simply sucked all the energy or life out of them. The smoke is merely the link between the Supreme and his victim.’
Brighton fired off another question, ‘How come the first man died instantly, but not the second? Did Seth get tired or weak?’
‘Not at all,’ Thomas replied. ‘When a Supreme or a Dark One steals energy it makes them stronger.’
‘Oh I see,’ Brighton said. ‘The energy has to go somewhere so it goes into the body of the person stealing it.’
‘Yes. A Dark One can choose how fast he steals your energy. It can be instant, which kills you immediately or slower which is excruciatingly painful.’
‘I am a descendant of the Supremes. I am a Dark One,’ Thomas confessed.
‘So you can make that black smoke and steal energy from other people?’ Brighton asked.
‘No.’
Brighton was confused.
‘Earlier you said you inherited this gift and now you tell me you’re a Dark One but you cannot steal energy?’
‘I can take energy from someone, but I have to touch them. My talent is not strong enough to establish a link over any distance, no matter how small.’
‘So, if you touch me now, I will die?’ Brighton asked.
‘Again, no’. Thomas said.
Brighton frowned, ‘This is confusing.’
‘There are two reasons for this. First the obvious one: A Dark One chooses to steal energy, it does not happen automatically when we touch someone. We can control it. Only in extreme cases do we lose control of the gift.’
Before Brighton could speak, Thomas went on.
‘Any living thing has instincts. The most basic instinct is to live. Survival.
‘When a Dark One’s life is in danger his instinct for survival will take over and try to steal energy from any available source. This is the only time it will happen automatically. It is a bit like breathing. You don’t have to think about it, it just happens. Do you understand?’
Brighton just nodded. It was all starting to sound like a bedtime story to him.
‘Secondly, I cannot feel you. My talent is blind to you.’
‘Feel me? What does that mean?’
‘Another part of the talent is a sort of sense or feeling. If you’re going to steal energy, you need to know where it is first. All Dark Ones have this ability. Again, it’s something we control. At the moment, I’m not using it but if I wanted to I could cast a sort of sensing blanket over the village and tell you where everyone is. Every person’s energy is slightly different. If a Dark One sensed your energy once he will remember the feeling of it and recognize it next time.’
‘Show me,’ Brighton demanded.
‘And what will that prove?’ Thomas asked. ‘I could tell you that Lilian is at her house and you will have no way of knowing if it’s true.’
‘I’ll go look,’ Brighton persisted.
‘And maybe she leaves before you get there, then it looks like I lied. Besides, it’s too dangerous.’
‘Why is it dangerous?’
‘Because other Dark Ones can find me when I use my sense. That would be bad. This is why I hardly ever use it these days.’
‘What do you mean?’ Brighton asked curiously.
‘It would be bad if they find me. Not good. Bad,’ Thomas repeated.
‘I don’t mean that part,’ Brighton said, ‘what do you mean, they can find you, if you use your sense?’ he asked.
‘When a gifted person uses his sense to scan for life, other gifted people can feel it,’ Thomas answered.
‘How do you know that your sense is “blind” to me?’ Brighton asked next.
Thomas thought for a moment and decided he needed to tell Brighton about the previous day.
‘Yesterday, you and Lilian were playing at the river. I…’
‘How do you know? Were you spying on us?’ Brighton asked heatedly.
‘In a way, yes,’ Thomas admitted. ‘But only to test a
theory,’ he quickly added.
‘I was on the other side of the river where you and Lilian could not see me. I scanned the surrounding area with my gift for life. My sense reached you and Lilian but strangely, I could only feel her energy. It was like you were not there although I could see you with my eyes.’
‘Is this…..’ Brighton started.
‘Wait, there is more. You immediately looked up and straight to where I was hiding. It was like you knew I was there.’
‘I remember,’ Brighton said pensively. ‘I was brushing Lily’s hair and suddenly had the feeling someone was watching us. Is this normal?’
‘Normal? A person should not be able to steal energy from other people. A person should not live for five hundred years or more. No, young man, none of this is normal,’ Thomas shouted angrily.
That’s not what Brighton meant with the question but after that reaction, he decided not to ask again.
Thomas took a deep breath and in a softer tone said, ‘I’m sorry. None of this is your fault. I should not be shouting at you.’
‘I take it you don’t really like this talent of yours very much,’ Brighton said carefully.
‘It’s not the talent itself. It’s how the people who have it use it. We are no better than regular or ungifted people are. Why should we live forever?’
Brighton asked his next question carefully, ‘Do you steal energy from the people in the village?’
He was expecting Thomas to shout again but instead the old man sighed deeply and said, ‘About sixty years ago I stopped. I had the face of a thirty-year-old man although I was more than five hundred years old. I came to live out the rest of my life in Four Mountains.
‘I started aging like everyone else and life was good. At first the people here distrusted me but slowly I became part of the community and now I’m just old Thomas.’
‘How did you know we call you that?’ Brighton asked wide-eyed.
Thomas laughed. ‘I may have this cursed gift but I also have normal eyes and ears like everyone else.’
‘Sorry,’ Brighton stammered.
‘Don’t be. If everybody knew just how true that nickname is. They think I’m seventy years old when I’m almost five hundred and seventy.’
Brighton started laughing with Thomas.
‘Yes, it is actually quite funny,’ he said.
