by Troy Hooker
But how could he if he was locked up here?
Sam was very interested in the next one, as the image was one of a beautiful woman. For some reason, even though she was filthy, and her eyes resembled only hollow empty pits, she was appealing. Something about her was really intriguing. She drew you to her—even though it was only a holographic image, buried deep within the darkness of the cave, she was beautiful.
“And that one?”
“That’s Taurs, Lord of Seduction. She was known to have seduced her way into men’s hearts—and was the one who let the Metim into the Old City before they destroyed it.”
The Old City—the Descendants’ first city to serve as government for the regions of Lior. Gus has spoken about it before. Many Descendants of Light who lived in the City died because of an invasion of the Dark Forces. It was the last time the Watchers intervened, destroying the invading Dark Forces, but at a very high cost. Since then, the Watchers have not been seen.
Sam searched the images, looking for the fourth that Sayvon mentioned.
“Wait—you said that there were four Dark Lords. Where’s the fourth?”
Sayvon frowned grimly.
“He’s not there because he was never caught after the destruction of the Old City. His name is Kachash, the Lord of Deception. He has been in hiding for almost—uh—fifty of your years now. But most think he is dead.”
Incredible. Sam thought. Fallen angels, right here in front of him.
“But Kachash isn’t near as powerful as the Dark One, Nasikh. He is the original Dark Lord before Creation, before Lior.”
Satan. She’s talking about the legendary evil one. Even Sam knew who that was.
“What does he look like?” Sam wanted to know, his mind instantly racing back to the night in the forest when he first stepped through the arch. He didn’t see it, but the thought that maybe it could be him …
“No one knows. Some say he looks like a hideous monster with sharp teeth and horns that can tear someone in half, but others say he looks just like us.”
“Like people in Lior? So he could be in the City?”
Sayvon laughed for the first time that Sam had ever heard. But then she turned deadly serious.
“No, there is no way. After the Old City was destroyed, the Council put in a detection system that works on Lazuli light, and that’s when they also commissioned the Protectors Office to monitor the City. They are on guard from sun up to sun down.”
Sam remembered the guard at the front gate, and walking into the Chancellor’s office with Talister. This must be the detection system to which she was referring.
His mind went back to the guard stopping them momentarily, seeing something in the light that didn’t add up. Did he see something hidden inside him?
Sam pushed the thought out of his mind and stared at the eerie images once again. Sayvon held her key up once again and instantly the scene of the figures in the prison retracted into the hologram, where there were four other images in the montage waiting to be viewed. They were all void of figures, and all appeared to contain an arch in different places.
“Where are those places?” Sam asked, his eyes centering on the one in the woods that looked similar to the one he came through.
“Those are the arches in Lior, four of them total. I believe that one,” she pointed at the one surrounded by familiar pine trees, “is the one you came through.”
He stared at the lifeless arch, where only a patch of sunlight shown on one of its legs. It seemed like only yesterday that he knew nothing of arches, or of a spirit world like Lior.
“What about the Metim? Can they use the arches?” he asked without considering the answer.
She brushed her hair back and stood as the late afternoon sun began to pour into the tower.
“No, they can’t. Once the Light leaves them they are unable to manipulate the Light any longer.”
He stood with her, accepting her incredibly soft hand in his, watching the rays of sunlight inch their way up the interior wall with incredible patience. Light—it was free to roam as it pleased, shining as it wills, a slave of no one.
“Unless they were forced.”
“Yes. Unless they were forced, or chose to follow the Metim when they were still within the Light. But that is nearly impossible.”
“Nearly.”
Cheering sounds from around the City echoed suddenly into the tower’s stone walls. Sam stalled as Sayvon attempted to lead them toward the monitoring tower door.
“Has it ever happened? Have the Metim ever gotten through an arch?”
She stopped suddenly and turned suddenly to look at him, completely ignoring his question. Instead she gazed intently into his eyes, not allowing him to avert his gaze.
“Sam, are you and Emma … exclusive?” The cheering in the background intensified, but she refused to let him be distracted.
The question stopped him cold. He didn’t know. Emma was sure not happy to have him be with Sayvon, that was obvious, but whether or not they were dating exclusively was still a mystery. Neither of them had really talked about it, and he hadn’t really thought about it until this point. If it were true, she would be the only girlfriend he had had since Jenny Hampton in the fourth grade. Saint Mary’s Parish and School may have been the best education in the area, but it didn’t allow much for a social life.
“I don’t think so,” he started to say, but was immediately silenced by her lips pressing to his.
For a moment, the act sent a chill up his spine as his lips quivered, but it quickly faded into an uncomfortable feeling of guilt. Something didn’t feel right about her kiss, and she knew it too in the same instant as she pushed away suddenly.
An awkward silence hung in the air on the stairwell for nearly a minute as the two stared confused at one another. There was something different about her, but he couldn’t explain it if he tried. It was almost as if he already knew her—had known her his entire life.
“I’m sorry, we’d better go,” she said quietly, fumbling with the Light keys on the ring she had slipped on her wrist. “You are late for dinner.”
“Sayvon, I don’t know what—” he started, but couldn’t finish the words for lack of finding them.
“It was so foolish. I suppose I was trying to be wild and crazy like your women in Creation—”
He smiled and took her hand in his, immediately understanding what she must be feeling, torn between two worlds. No doubt the same lure was what drew the Watchers to Creation in the first place.
“You don’t need to be crazy for me to like you,” he said genuinely.
“It doesn’t matter,” she tried to play it off, but smiled still the same at his compassionate words. “We can talk about it later. Mrs. Sterling doesn’t like it when her guests are late for dinner.
Chapter Nine
Games and Dark Dreams
They walked back to Thalo’s Main Street in silence. The sun was just beginning to show signs of red and orange over the roof of the cabin as they made their way up the pathway. Stopping suddenly, Sayvon grabbed his hand and squeezed comfortingly as if to tell him she enjoyed being with him. He squeezed back, knowing it would not be the end of their conversation. Whatever they had felt when she had kissed him, it required more thought, and more figuring out. It was yet another mystery in a long line of mysteries since entering Lior.
Emma had not left her spot in the pavilion, but when Sam and Sayvon emerged from the trees, she immediately got up and walked toward the cabin, refusing to look behind her. Mrs. Sterling smiled as Sam came through the cabin door after saying goodbye to Sayvon and slipped into his seat at the table, where everyone else except Mr. Sterling had already taken their seats and were waiting on him. In the middle of the table was a large festive vase full of flowers and glowing red dragon figurines.
“Now, as soon as the Mister arrives, I
believe we can eat,” Mrs. Sterling said as she set a large steaming pot of coffee on the table. When she set it down, Emma stood from where Sam had taken the seat next to her to move across the table to another chair.
“Guess she is still mad at you,” Gus whispered from the only other occupied chair next to Sam.
“Yeah, I suppose,” he said.
At that moment, Mr. Sterling burst through the door wearing a large red hat and carrying a newspaper titled “The Watcher.” The headlines were visible enough for Sam to realize that it had to be the main newspaper for the whole of Lior.
“Let the games begin!” he hollered with his hands outstretched, causing cheers from everyone in the room.
“What do you think the odds are for the Thalo hall this year, Jack?” Miss Karpatch said as Mr. Sterling plopped in his seat at the head of the table.
“Not good, I am afraid,” he said sadly. “This year they have a rookie who hasn’t seen but two games in his whole career, and has never started in a tournament.”
Mrs. Sterling set a large plate of roast duck and potatoes on the table.
“Now if we don’t eat then we won’t be able to see any of it, will we?” she huffed loudly.
Mr. Sterling stood and stretched out his hand to Cooley on one side and Mrs. Sterling on the other.
“She’s right, of course.” He cleared his throat. “Let’s bow and thank our Creator for the harvest.”
All at the table closed their eyes, with the exception of Emma, who glanced briefly at Sam before closing her own. Sam was sure he saw hurt in her eyes.
“Our Lord and Creator, we ask that you accept our thanks for this bountiful harvest. We deserve nothing less than to be wiped from your memory, but instead you have favored us from your mighty hand. It is with great honor and humbleness that we accept your blessings,” he paused, “and if you will be with those participating in the games tonight and the rest of this week, we ask for their protection and safety. We ask these things as Descendants of your Kingdom.”
After eating a heaping plate of tender duck meat, potatoes, and two large pieces of bread, and drinking nearly three glasses of a purplish looking tea that had the flavor of herbs and grapes, Sam excused himself at Mrs. Sterling’s shooing and followed Gus upstairs to change clothes as everyone else hurried to get out the door for the start of the games.
The stadium was tucked behind the City Center, nearly on the edge of a tall cliff overlooking the sea, and as they walked through the throngs of other halls cheering and making their way to the field, the sun finally made its exit below the horizon. The stadium was packed to the brim, and by the time they reached their seats, the moon had peeked itself from behind its hidden location in the blackened forest, blanketing the whole city with a soft glow like a lone light in a dark universe.
There were thousands of seats lining the huge wood beams that made up the rows, and the group followed Cooley to a front row spot right in the center of the field.
Suddenly, high above them a bright blue firework exploded, signaling the game start was near, illuminating the black liquid expanse for a moment.
“What ocean is that?” Sam pointed at the blackness in front of where Emma had surprisingly pulled him into a seat next to her.
She looked into his eyes calculatingly.
“We call it the Sea of Yarey.”
“Yarey,” he repeated.
“It means fear, from the ancient language Descendants used to use.”
“It looks pretty scary,” he said jokingly.
For the first time that day a subtle smile formed in the corner of her lips. She may not be completely over his spending time with Sayvon, but at least she was on speaking terms with him now.
She punched him in the arm suddenly, causing him to reel back and knock over a lighted cup of iced tea all over the woman sitting behind them.
He apologized to the woman repeatedly and flagged down another vendor in the next row while Emma laughed herself to the floor of the row at his clumsiness.
Sam slumped back down in the seat when the whole ordeal had ended, the woman choosing to move to the seat beside her to avoid his “uncontrollable movements.” She sipped her tea and glared in his direction every so often. Emma punched him again, softer this time, but then mimicked his outburst by flinging her hands wildly into the air behind her, and then she broke out into another fit of laughter. He was certainly glad to see her smile again, even at his expense, and even if it did feel like she was taking out her frustrations about Sayvon on his arm.
The stadium filled up quickly with spectators as the opening ceremony began with light-bearing acrobats from all four halls shooting each other high into the air and dangling from tall poles held by incredibly strong acrobats below.
Spectators were instantly on their feet as the band moved onto the field, playing the chorus of each of the representative halls, with each colored section of the crescent shaped stadium cheering more loudly as their lighted hats bobbed and moved in a waving pattern to the music.
Then, as the band bowed and ended their round of choruses, suddenly it seemed that everyone had found their seats and were quieting down. Acrobats pranced quickly off the field following the small band, at which point the lights in the stadium dimmed and a small man wearing a white robe emerged from the far end of the stadium, a blue spotlight hovering curiously above him as he walked.
Once he arrived at the very center of the stadium, he held his hands outstretched until there was an eerie silence throughout the air. No one spoke, and the only sound was the occasional creak of a stadium bench and the soft rolling of the waves in the darkness.
“Who’s that?”
“Shhhh!” Emma punched his arm sharply. “Be quiet!”
“I’m sorry I—” Sam started.
“Welcome!” his voice boomed through the stadium, drowning out any noise from the sea, “to the games of Lior!” He threw his hands in the air once again to the deafening sound of cannon booms behind him and sprays of blue light shooting high into the air around the stadium.
At first Sam didn’t notice Emma holding his hand because of the eruption of the stadium around him, but when the cheering simmered into a lull once again, he felt the pressure of Emma’s soft hand squeezing his rather tightly. He squeezed back, hoping she would see it as his apology for Sayvon.
Hooded white figures suddenly ran onto the field carrying a long white carpet, which they immediately rolled out in front of the man in the white robe, who only watched as he continued to hold his hands out above him.
Gus opened a large bag of popped Fuzer nuts and a box of dark brown egg-shaped candies rather loudly, at which point Mrs. Sterling leaned forward from behind them and shushed him.
“That’s Mentor Aron,” Gus whispered as he pointed toward the field. “He’s the master Mentor for the School of the Shining One. He conducts the ceremony for the new recruits into the Sons of Light.”
With the crowd still silent, the man turned toward the end of the field, and white lighting instantly shot from his outstretched hand and illuminated a candelabra standing at the end of the carpet where the hooded figures had placed it. Then he turned, and another bolt of lighting shot from his other hand and lit the candelabra on the other side.
Turning toward the audience with his arms still outstretched, he bellowed, “Let us welcome the newest Sons into the service of Lior!”
Bright spheres of light on each side of the Mentor dropped from out of the sky and splashed onto the field, and suddenly eight hooded figures were visible in the blinding blue light.
People cheered so loudly that Gus’s next commentary on the happenings was impossible to understand. Instead, Sam chose to join in with the elated crowd and clapped as loud as he could. It was an amazing sight, even though the light that blinded the field from the Son’s appearance still left blind spots in his vision.
With the audience finally settling down after yet another round of whistles and cheers from the emotional crowd, the eight figures removed their hoods and knelt before the Mentor. Once again, Mentor Aron stretched out his hands and spoke as if his voice was broadcast through a loudspeaker.
“These Descendants are called by the Creator for the purpose of defending Lior! We welcome them into the family of the Sons of Light!”
Again the stadium erupted into cheers, and couldn’t be quieted for several more moments.
“Never has there been a greater calling, or a greater challenge than the one that has been accepted by the Sons. We ask our Mighty Creator for protection upon them, and upon the land of Lior as they fight the forces of Darkness!”
He then turned and faced the first hooded individual, and bowed deeply before him, bringing himself lower than the figure next to him. Then he moved onto the next one, and the next, until he had bowed before all of the figures on the field. When he was finished, he stood and returned to the center of the carpet once more, at which point all of the recruits dropped to their knees in a humble bow, each in one motion. Again, silence echoed loudly throughout the stadium.
“As the Creator has permitted me, it is now my distinct honor to call these Descendants … Sons of Light! Rise and be acknowledged!”
Everyone in the stadium was once again on their feet, and the cheering couldn’t be stifled this time. The newly appointed Sons huddled around their Mentor, hugging and holding each other until the acrobats rolled up the carpet and began setting up for the game.
“So those guys—the Sons … help the Protector’s Office defend the City?” Sam leaned over to Gus who was polishing off a second bag of Fuzer nuts.
“Actually,” he crunched away, “they are sent around Lior making sure the Metim stay within their boundaries. But they do aid the PO when they need extra help.”
