by Lucian Bane
“Maybe Vanessa?” Charlotte suggested.
“She’s… I think she’s very taken with me,” Sabre confessed.
Charlotte perked up at that with a smile. The prospect of love for Sabre provided a burning longing she couldn’t resist. He deserved to feel it. “Is she?”
“She kissed me. Twice. And hugged my neck like three times.”
The way he toyed with the hem of his pants made her smile. Like a young boy with his first love. “You know, I would’ve eventually written that for you,” Charlotte was sure.
“Would you,” he mused, brows raised.
“I’m sure I would’ve. If things hadn’t changed.”
“Valentine likes Rukie.”
“Ohhhh,” Charlotte gasped, liking that even more. The villainous ass. “How much?”
“More than he realizes, I’d wager. He’s playing games right now, not getting he’s the one being played.”
Charlotte laughed at that one. “I know exactly what you mean. Because I played…” The words froze on her tongue and she lowered her gaze. “The same game with Poe,” she whispered.
Sabre gave a frustrated sigh. “I put my guts on the table just to give you something else to think about, and look what happens.”
“It’s okay,” she whispered still. “I don’t mind. I do miss him but… I don’t mind so much. As much.” She looked at Sabre, wiping her eyes and smiling. “I want to keep his memory alive. So it’s okay. I just have to get used to talking about it.”
He seemed to consider that then said, “You should have seen him with the phone,” Sabre said, smiling. “And I didn’t tell you about how Valentine drenched us in blood because Poe laughed his ass off at him.”
Charlotte smiled. “No, you didn’t. Tell me,” she insisted, her heart hammering for details.
“Well, V was being an ass to…”
“The girl with no name,” Charlotte said, grinning. “Let’s call her Sally. She looks like a cute Sally.”
Sabre pursed his lips, thinking before agreeing. “Yeah. She definitely looks like a Sally. That’s a cute, sweet name and she’s… that kind of person.”
“So, V was being an ass to Sally,” Charlotte said.
“Right, and I’d had just about enough and said I’d bust his ass if he didn’t quit.”
“Good for you,” Charlotte laughed.
“V turns on the radio while I’m still pissed, banging his head to the music so I zapped the radio and the charge in the air…” Sabre swirled his hand around his head, “…made V’s hair stand out like one of those flowers with the poofy spikes you can blow?”
“Yes,” Charlotte laughed, knowing the kind he meant.
Sabre’s laughter sputtered out as he went on. “And Poe. Good ole Poe points it out and starts laughing.” Sabre eyed her. “Holy hell, the man has a highly contagious laugh, was the first time I heard him really busting a gut and it had me going. And Mr. Tough V is all like It’s my hair and my body, it absorbs power!” Sabre’s laughter stole the final words. “Rider and I, we’re laughing our asses off by now, can’t breath. And so V is so pissed, he gets out of the car, slams the door, and douche, we’re suddenly covered in blood!”
“Ewwwww!” Charlotte cried, laughing.
“Rider and I look at each other and bust out laughing again. Oh God,” he gasped, catching his breath as he sagged back into the couch. “That was so great,” he mused. “We bonded right then,” Sabre muttered. “I felt it.”
Charlotte’s heart ached and her breath caught as Sabre leaned over and covered his face with both hands. God, she’d not realized how Sabre felt about him.
“He was great and perfect, wasn’t he?”
Sabre nodded with his hands still covering his face. “Such… a pure heart,” he whispered.
“Like you?”
He shrugged, wiping his eyes on his shoulder. “More, I think.” He smiled and nodded. “You know, when I mused on you to write him… I mused… the man I knew you needed the most. And no, that was not me. I knew that. Never thought it was. I just said that because damn he was fun to pick on.” He turned a burning gaze on her. “That’s what I loved about him the most.”
“What?” she barely said, swallowing.
“His jealousy. It was… like that one thousand percent guarantee that you got what you paid for, what you ordered. I think I did things just to see it, to know that I had done so very good.”
“Why? Why did you do that for me?” Charlotte gasped.
“Because…”
At seeing she’d hit on some secret, she begged, “Tell me, please.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sabre stood and paced, putting his back to her. “Because you’re… mine to keep.”
His to keep? She didn’t understand. “How, I…”
“When you were fourteen, I nearly lost you. Remember that day when you decided to write?”
“Yes,” she said. “Right after my grandfather…”
“Died,” he said, turning his face toward her briefly. “You didn’t realize how close you were to the dark back then. But I knew. I saw. And… I mused you to write me so that… I would be there in as many ways as I could… when that darkness came for you. And it did.”
“You’re…”
Sabre turned, his blue eyes more brilliant than ever. “I’m your Guardian.”
She covered her mouth with a hand. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “Oh my God. And… I thought I’d made you up?”
He smiled with a lowered head. “Yeah. You did.”
“And Valentine?”
“Well now, V came in for other reasons. When I saw what the Evil was up to on Octava, I took the opportunity and mused you to write him into the realm to help me.”
“So he and you are…”
“Have other jobs outside your story, yes.”
“Wow,” she gasped before asking with sudden hope. “And… Poe?”
Sabre shook his lowered head, his strong jaw firm. “I cannot wish I’d not mused you to create him, Sarah, I cannot.”
“I don’t want you to,” she gasped.
“Good, because even though he was fictional, he was much more. I don’t really understand how, but he was. And you are part of the reason for that.”
“Thank you,” Charlotte whispered heatedly. “So much, for allowing me to have him.” She swiped the tears from her face. “I am so blessed to have known him and loved him.”
“Good because…” Sabre’s voice broke and he turned. “Because it was always your heart I was meaning to keep. Protect.”
Awe filled her. “And I promise you, Sabre. That I will not squander such a beautiful gift. Do you hear me? You did so amazing.”
“I have to go,” he said quietly before hurrying out the room.
****
Charlotte sat in the auditorium for the ceremony with Valentine, Sabre, Rukie, and Sally—who did indeed love her new name. She looked all around the large hall at the few people. Only one person from each Province was carefully selected to attend. Probably wouldn’t have been any if it wasn’t required for the ceremony judging by the Queen’s feelings on it.
With the stage being so huge, they all sat toward the front area, far enough back to see everything. Nobody knew how the ceremony would go. Charlotte had certainly asked. The Queen may have known, but she was very vague in her answers—saying things Charlotte already knew—which provided her stomach with knots of anticipation.
Finally the lights lowered except those on the stage. Charlotte’s gaze followed a racket on the left where the black curtain fluttered about. The back end of a man emerged first, pulling a huge object with him on wheels. As the curtain slid aside, Charlotte gasped in amazement. “That’s… That’s Quasimodo, the Hunchback of Notre-Dame!” With a huge bell on a wooden platform with wheels no less. The Bellsman! She looked around to see if she was the only one who found that fascinating and indeed she was—minus Sally who seemed to find everything fascinating.
The centuries old contrapt
ion wobbled precariously as he rolled it to the center of the stage then limped off, returning soon after with an arm full of scrolls that he kept dropping. Charlotte wished somebody would help him but figured this his part.
She eyed Sabre to see what he thought so far and was met with his calm expression, like it was all very commonplace. She glanced around at all the spectators, finding much the same.
Finally when he seemed set up, he dug through the rolled up scrolls in an eeny-meeny-miney-moe format before picking one out.
He limped to the center of the stage with his scroll and opened it, eyeing the audience with loud labored breaths. “The first Son of Zion.” This lone voice echoed out before he ran to the bell tower and climbed the steps. Reaching under the bell, he fought to grab hold of the rope then finally yanked the bell back and forth, bringing a loud gong, gong, gong. Charlotte counted seven before he stopped, then climbed down and limped quickly to the side of the stage and stood, staring into the air between himself and the bell, labored breaths loud in the silence.
“What’s happening,” she whispered to Sabre. “Do you see anything?”
“Not yet,” he whispered back.
She jumped when the lights flickered in the auditorium then shut off. She grabbed Sabre’s hand, and he laced his fingers tight in hers, seeming just as concerned with all the unknowns. The stage began to light up with bolts of lightening followed with a whirring color that formed a sphere. The growling sound of thunder and wind grew louder until it filled the room with a deafening roar then a sonic BOOM that jolted Charlotte in her seat.
The air was silent again and a dense smoke hovered where that BOOM had come from. It slowly cleared and the lights returned with the same flickering that they left. Charlotte sucked in a breath at seeing a small form standing on the stage.
Quasimodo gestured grandly to the person with an arm and huge smile. “Sound Minister of the Sound Realm,” he yelled. “You have been chosen as one of the Seven Sons of Zion.”
The young boy bowed on one knee as Quasimodo limped quickly over to him and placed something on his hand. A ring? Charlotte strained to see as he then directed the young boy to stand on the corner edge of the stage before hurrying back to pile of scrolls scattered on the floor and picking one up.
Again his labored breaths were the only drum roll with his careful unrolling of it. “The Second Son of Zion,” he yelled loudly before setting down the scroll and racing up the bell tower. He grabbed the rope and rang the bell again. Seven gongs. He scrambled back down and hurried to his spot on the side and waited as before. Watching the same space.
Again the lights flickered and went out. This time Charlotte held her breath for the lightening and booms, squeezing Sabre’s hand tight. She put her ear on his shoulder when the noise got deafening then slowly peeked when it vanished. Another smoke enshrouded person stood on the stage and Quasi shot out another grand arm gesture with loud announcement, “Arden, of the Dance Realm! You have been chosen as one of the Seven Sons of Zion.”
The man standing there in shiny black pants and no shirt gracefully bowed on one knee, and again, Quasi hurried over and put something on his hand. “Is he giving them rings?” she whispered to Sabre.
“It appears,” he said, sounding fascinated.
“I had no idea there was a dance realm,” Charlotte hissed.”
“Yes. The Seventh Realm codes are embedded through various mediums. Dance is one of those.” He regarded her. “Do you dance?”
Charlotte snorted. “Not hardly. Or sing. Or play music.” But she did enjoy those forms of “communication” as he put it. Wow. So fascinating that they were real forms of some kind of language between humans and other parts of the universe. What a communion—or marriage.
Charlotte was at the edge of her seat when the third form appeared in the smoke. He seemed slim and tall. Quasi flung his arm at the person. “Scriber! Son of Art,” he announced grandly. “You have been chosen as one of the Seven Sons of Zion.”
Charlotte strained to see this person. “He’s…”
“Black,” Sabre muttered, sitting forward.
“Like entirely,” Charlotte said. “Very black.”
“Every part of him. Solid,” Sabre confirmed, sounding amazed.
The form seemed to wear a long black skirt. Solid black hair ended far past his waist. She would have thought woman except the masculine torso was bare and quite… masculine. The body parts exposed were so black, you couldn’t tell where the hair and skirt began and ended. Very creepy! The being bowed on one knee, head lowered as Quasi gave him the ring and ushered him to stand with the other two. Three down, four more.
“Art, dance, sound. What’s next?” Charlotte wondered.
“Not sure,” Sabre chuckled at her impatience.
“You know, this reminds me of a play we did at my school. Where we reenacted the Hunch Back of Notre-Dame.”
“I remember it,” Sabre smiled.
She gasped. “You do?”
“Yes, and you’re right, that’s exactly what it feels like,” he whispered.
“You would think they’d put some funds aside for props and sound effects—something.”
Sabre chuckled quietly. “As our good Poe would say, ‘Divinities. Would it have killed you to put a hadron of excellence into a fabrication of such cosmic significance?’”
Charlotte buried her snickers in his arm as the auditorium filled with that deafening noise and explosion. “Phew,” she whispered when it was over. “Gotta give them credit for that part. Great show.”
“Right,” Sabre said. “My insides can’t handle much more of that.”
“The fourth one,” she whispered when the smoke cleared. “Oh, he’s big looking.”
“Monstrous,” Sabre said, sitting forward.
“Ruin of Hell’s realm! You have been chosen as one of the Seven Sons of Zion.”
“Hell!” Charlotte gasped, gawking. “Wow, look at him! Look at those tattoos. Holy shite, he’s a beast!”
“Is that a towel around his waist?” Sabre muttered. “Where are they grabbing these people from? Their baths?”
Charlotte had to hide her snickers again. “He is scary! Look at those eyes!”
“Like emerald fire,” Sabre said. “I may know him.”
“Really?”
“Well… heard of him.”
“Quasi is having a hard time with the ring,” Charlotte hissed after quite some time at the giant’s hand.
Finally he limp-ushered the man to the side where he waited with the other three Sons of Zion.
Charlotte leaned to Sabre. “Three more.”
Charlotte found Quasi’s scroll reading, bell-tolling, ring-bearing, performance, funnier each time. Instead of getting better at the routine, he seemed to be getting more confused, hesitating and changing directions at various points. Charlotte was finding it harder and harder not to laugh.
But then the darkness came, the lightening boomed, and the smoke cleared and Charlotte was back at the edge of her seat. It was the fifth son. Charlotte strained to see the form as Quasi’s voice rang out, “Sabre, Son of the Seventh Realm.”
Charlotte jerked left and found Sabre gone! “Oh my God!” she gasped, eyeing Sally who appeared confused.
“Is that Sabre,” Sally said, moving in Sabre’s empty seat.
“You have been chosen as one of the Seventh Sons of Zion,” Quasi announced.
Sabre bowed on the stage, head down then Quasi placed a ring on his finger before escorting him to the giant from just before while Sally and Charlotte sat with open mouths.
Charlotte crossed in front of Sally and sat next to Valentine. “Did you know about this?” she hissed.
“Surely not surprised,” he whispered.
“Why?”
He grinned and leaned his head to whisper, “Because he’s an Archangel of the Seventh Realm?”
Her jaw dropped. “ARCH-angel?”
“Yes,” he muttered with a smile.
“He ki
nd of forgot to mention that!”
“He doesn’t like to flash it about.”
“Oh my God!” Sally whispered, leaning in behind Charlotte. “A real angel?”
Charlotte peered at Sabre on the stage to see if he was happy about it, surprised, shocked, bored, what! Before she could see what he was, the racket and darkness and booming came. Charlotte suddenly felt woozy and she blinked to steady herself. “Shit, I can’t see,” she whispered.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Charlotte,” a voice called.
She looked right and saw a man in white standing in front of a huge circle of various colored lights. She peered through the sphere and saw the auditorium on the other side.
“You have been chosen.” He held his hand out to her and she took it without thought, confused.
“What?”
“You are chosen for the realm of Earth. Do you accept this?”
She stared at him, her mouth open. “What?”
“You are chosen for the realm of Earth. Do you accept this?” he repeated in the exact same words.
Her mouth remained open. She looked around to find nothing but endless darkness behind, above, and below her. The fear she should have felt wasn’t there. “Are you sure?” she asked, perplexed. “Look at me,” she whispered. “I’m… not a son.”
“The term is genderless,” he said with a smile.
Genderless. “I see. Right.” She nodded then, her heart suddenly hammering too hard in her chest. “Do they know about me, what I can and… can’t do?”
“Yes,” he said with a patient, all knowing smile.
“Okay, wow,” she whispered, fanning her face and focusing on breathing properly. “Okay. Uh. Okay. Poe would… probably agree, he would think this is an honor. He would want me to do this. Right,” she said, nodding with her eyes closed before asking, “Do I… just walk through that?”
“That’s it,” he said.
“Okay,” she whispered, taking several breaths and tiny steps toward the roaring circle before her. “Is… is this going to hurt?”
“Not at all,” he said, so very kindly.
She was terrified now. But still inching her way to the opening. “Thank you,” she said so grateful for his presence. “For standing there and helping me.” She continued to move her right foot closer and closer. “It’s pulling,” she whispered.
