The Watcher Key

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The Watcher Key Page 46

by Troy Hooker


  At some point in the conversation, Emma left the fire and headed toward the cabin with Lillia trailing behind her. Even though she said she wasn’t upset, Sam could still see her demeanor had changed. He knew she was afraid, but then again, so was he.

  Gus flopped into one of the chairs overlooking the spires of the City while reading through the journal, leaving Sam alone with his thoughts.

  Laying down on one of the long benches, however, Sam decided to get a little bit of a nap before the ceremony that evening. He was just so tired … just a few minutes would do him good. After such a huge meal, it was impossible to keep his eyes open.

  He awoke to the booming of a large firework exploding above him. It was nearly evening, and he had slept the day away. He began to assume that no one had bothered him while he had slept, but as he looked around, he found Emma curled up in a chair not far from his bench. She was sleeping soundly, her strawberry hair fallen partly over her face. The last of the evening sun was shining gently on her shoulders, and a shiny stream of drool cascaded down the corner of her mouth. When he sat up, she awoke suddenly, wiping the drool from her lips.

  “What was that?” Sam pointed to the remnants of the firework in the sky.

  “One hour till the ceremony,” she said sleepily, sitting upright and putting her hair back in a ponytail.

  “You drool when you sleep,” Sam said playfully, drawing a sleepy frown from Emma.

  “Leave me alone,” she tried to force back the smile, but couldn’t.

  “It’s cute, that’s all.”

  She stood and brushed the ashes of the dying fire off of her, then forced Sam to stand with her. She hummed a tune Sam didn’t recognize, pulling him close to her and swaying slightly in his arms.

  Far in the pools the Ori hide

  Graceful they move like streams of Light

  Then moonlit night gives way to day

  Deep below the Ori stay

  But dark may come and night return

  To bathe in rays of Light they yearn.

  They held each other for the few minutes before Mrs. Sterling called them in for dinner and to get ready for the ceremony.

  Following dinner, they were instructed to go directly upstairs and pack, as the plan was to take the Lightway back to the gate after the ceremony and head back to White Pine for the remainder of the school year. They weren’t expected to see Lior again until the following year’s Light Festival.

  Sam wanted to stay, but knew what his father had told him about being quick to open the gate. He would need more than courage to finish this task. It would require help, and not just from his friends. He needed help from the one they called the Creator.

  As he slid his over-packed backpack to the stairwell, on an impulse he asked Gus to come downstairs to talk to Mr. Sterling with him.

  “I know I am a Descendant now, but you have all told me there is more to the Light, specifically uh—with the Creator. I have thought about it, and I think I want to understand the Creator—like you all do,” Sam said to Mr. Sterling, feeling awkward with his words.

  “You want to become a follower of the Light! Sam, that’s great!” Gus exclaimed.

  Mr. Sterling put his arm around Sam as they headed into the living room.

  “With all of the Darkness and evil that has a grasp on these worlds, it is easy to see only the Dark, completely missing the Light. You must trust the Creator with everything, believing that only He will be the source of Light for your life. Can you?”

  “Yes, I mean I want to,” Sam answered. “I mean, I do.”

  “That’s all any of us can do,” Mr. Sterling said genuinely.

  Mr. Sterling held his hand out, and suddenly a small orb of blue began growing in his palm.

  “The Light is different from the Darkness because it is not about compliance, or blind obedience. The Light is a gift, and only requires one who is willing to reach out and take it.”

  Sam remembered how closely this related to the story of the man that was killed for the sin of humanity. The man they called Jesus offered His life so that others could be free.

  “So the Creator—does He see any Darkness in me?”

  “Never. He chooses to look past your faults, your past, everything. He only wants you to be free to choose the path of Light.”

  Sam paused. It was a completely new concept for him to submit his pride to anyone willingly. He had always believed respect was earned, not given. But he saw the way they acted—the love, respect, and desire to do what was right. Even if they weren’t perfect, they seemed to see a different path than those that muddled though life searching for truth and happiness in everything but God.

  “I’ll do it. I will believe in the Creator of the Light.”

  “Barakhi nafshi et Adonai!” Mr. Sterling and Gus said simultaneously. “Bless the Lord of the Light!”

  Instantaneously, it seemed the whole cabin had crowded into the living room where Sam, Mr. Sterling, and Gus were, hugging Sam and sending up thanks to the Creator. He had been ready to become a follower for quite some time now, but the words of his father and the love of the people around him had reminded him how important it was. It was the only thing that would separate him from the Darkness, even if he was to allow its hatred on Earth through the opening of the gate.

  He knew there was much to get past—anger, fear, and most of all, mistrust—if he was truly going to be a follower, and they were things he believed he made great strides in. But for now, it was as if a great weight had been lifted off of his shoulders, and a large hole in his heart had been filled. He was now a follower of the Creator, and a Descendant.

  ***********************

  The stadium was packed for the closing ceremony. Their own winning Thalo Kolar Ball team paraded around the stadium in bright red suits and red and silver-trimmed luxurious robes. The Sons of Light made an appearance as they zipped around the crowd, inciting eruptions of cheers as they passed, then disappearing into a Light cloud above the stadium. Next was the commencement of Helel Malach—the graduation of those who passed the School of the Shining One training. After that was the orientation and send-off of a much larger mass of students enrolled in the mentorship school that was about to begin.

  “We will be attending mentorship next year,” Emma said loudly over the cheers.

  Gus overheard and raised his eyebrows.

  “And now Sam will be invited as well!”

  The next thing Sam heard was the sound of the Chancellor’s velvety voice from the center of the stadium. He stood solemnly at center field, a lone light shining on his brilliant white robe and long silver hair.

  “As you may now know, one of us was found to have been deceived by the Darkness.” He stopped to allow murmurs from the crowd to dissipate. “Harper Cooley was a long-remembered friend and ally to the Descendants, not to mention the head of the Seer chamber here in Lior. He was lured by the enticing schemes of the Metim, and is now no longer a part of the People of Light. But we remember him for who he was, not for what he has done.”

  More murmurs rippled through the crowd. Suddenly Sam felt as though he was the center of attention, and although no one was looking at him, he still felt the imaginary stares on the back of his neck. Slinking down on the bench, he waited for the next announcement and his name to be called.

  “And, I would like to extend my personal gratitude to our newest Descendant, Samuel Forrester, for his valiant efforts to expose the Darkness within the City. Welcome to Lior, Samuel,” the Chancellor held his hand out toward the Thalo section in the stadium.

  Sam slunk down further on the wood bench. Mr. Sterling had told him earlier that the announcement would happen, but somehow he forgot until that moment. Now it happened, and the entire stadium stood and applauded him, the boy from Creation turned Descendant. He turned bright red even in the cool air as they clapped on, Mr. and Mrs. Ste
rling and Miss Karpatch some of the loudest. It was truly overwhelming.

  As they exited the stadium at the end of the ceremony, it was nearly impossible to wade through the crowd without someone congratulating or welcoming him, hugging him, or shaking his hand and introducing themselves. Eventually they were able to break free and make their way back to the cabin.

  ************************

  The group had planned to leave that evening, taking the Lightway to the cabin and crossing through the gate while it was still dark, as long as the Lightway was in working order. It was customary to protect their identities by entering and leaving Lior while most people in Creation slept.

  Sam was sad to leave the cozy circle of cabins and the fire pit in the pavilion, but he knew it had to happen. Before they could be accepted to mentorship, they were required to finish up to their ninth year of education. Most Liorians studied at home as a family unit, but as arch protectors, Lillia, Gus, and Emma went to the traditional school, one that Sam wasn’t too fond of returning to.

  The trip back was eventless, although one could never really get over the feeling of the Lightway or the transition back to Earth through the arch. Exhaustion took hold of all of them when they finally walked the pathway from the cave, past Orvil’s, and sadly parted company. Before the group split up, however, Mr. Sterling gathered them together in the early morning darkness beside the building.

  “Parting words, I am afraid, are never the easiest, and in this case, come with a warning as well,” he said quietly. “With the discovery of Cooley, the PO has uncovered a few anomalies from the Seer chamber that were never reported. One report is being investigated about the three original Lords of Darkness escaping from Ayet Sal.”

  Gasps filtered through the group as Mr. Sterling paused for them to digest his words.

  “There are also reports that some Dark Watchers who have recently fallen prey to the Darkness still have access to the gates.”

  “Meaning that by association, the Dark Lords have access as well,” Miss Karpatch scowled.

  Emma’s eyes gleamed in the nearly full moonlight.

  “You don’t think the Storm Lord Sar Sehrah could be responsible for the storm before we went into Lior that night?”

  “There is no doubt,” Mr. Sterling nodded. “And even more now, we must be watchful because we have been targeted by the Metim.”

  “Oh no,” Mrs. Sterling whispered as the rest of the group fell silent.

  “I do not mean to make you fear, only aware,” Mr. Sterling held up his hand. “Amos and I have discussed it with the Chancellor, and he has agreed to lift the ban on practicing Light manipulation while in Creation—even for those who haven’t gone through mentoring. I recommend the rest of the year be spent learning how to control it.”

  The four youths nodded.

  “Now, I believe it is time for the Sterling’s to get on home and get some sleep. I know I could sure use a few hours of shut-eye,” Mr. Sterling said as he snatched up Sam’s hand and shook it vigorously.

  As the rest of the group hugged and said their goodbyes, Gus made a point to pull Sam aside.

  “I suppose you will want to know where the gate is,” he whispered solemnly, “and I found out where the Sha’ar gate has been hidden all these years … if you still want to know, that is.”

  Sam nodded.

  “Inside Chivler’s Bookstore. Julian uncovered it and built the bookstore around it.”

  “Unbelievable,” Sam nearly choked. Right in the middle of White Pine.

  “I believe it is the reason that the Metim wanted him so badly. They must have found out about Julian’s journal, or they figured they could get the information from him about the gate, or the Stone, or both.”

  “It was almost like this journal was meant for us,” Sam thought aloud.

  “True.”

  Then Gus peered directly in Sam’s eyes.

  “There’s something else I found in here too, about the third prophet.”

  Sam’s heart skipped a beat. He almost didn’t even want to know what Gus was about to tell him.

  “Julian believed that the third prophet would be—well—conflicted.”

  Sam watched the others as they disappeared from the road toward their respective homes.

  “What does that mean?”

  Gus did not take his eyes off Sam.

  “Julian called the third prophet the one with the shadows, which I assume means he they would be more susceptible to the Darkness.”

  Somehow Sam already knew that. There had been clues everywhere, including inside Sam’s feelings deep down. While he knew he wanted to be of the Light, something about the Darkness kept drawing him closer …

  Sam tapped Gus’ backpack where the journal was most likely tucked, ignoring Gus’s subtle warning.

  “You know you will have a giant target painted on your back as long as you keep the journal.”

  Gus nodded.

  “And now so do you.”

  They bid their goodbyes and disappeared down separate paths from Orvil’s, each member of the group exhausted from the journey. As Sam silently walked back to his grandfather’s cabin in the light of the full moon, he prayed to the Creator for guidance. He was in charge of his decisions now, not Sam. His prayer was awkward, but it was real.

  As he prayed, the answers to his questions became very clear. While he still had his doubts about it, he knew what choice he must make, because the Creator had spoken. He felt it, deep down. It was the right thing to do. Did Amos know? Perhaps it was the reason his grandfather chose to stay in Lior a few more days to meet with the Chancellor. Maybe he was giving him the chance to complete the task on his own.

  It was now or never.

  Turning suddenly toward town, Sam kept to the shadows to ensure no stray midnight walker would see him. His heart beat soundly, and he attempted to calm himself as his father did by placing his hand upon his chest. He couldn’t tell if it had worked because he was nearly running down the street, in a hurry to be done with the whole thing.

  He thumbed the small Stone Talister had given him as he walked past the police tape over the splintered door of Chivler’s. It looked as though no one had moved so much as a torn book from the littered, dust-covered floor since the kidnapping.

  He didn’t risk turning on the lights in the store as the police could be patrolling by at any time, but he didn’t need to. Directly above him, with the columns and ceiling built around it, stood the outline of a coal-colored four-pronged arch.

  He walked over to one of the ornately carved legs, which seemed to blend in flawlessly with the bookshelves around it. Reaching out, he ran his hands over the rough stone, feeling the outline of the many hollow-eyed faces that barely swelled from its surface. How many people had passed through this store and never even knew the arch existed? It was hidden well, and he believed there was more to the story behind why it was hidden.

  In front of him was a small round hole set in one of the legs of the arch, perfect for the Stone he now held in his open hand. At the mention of Nuriel, Talister had removed the Stone from his bracelet and given it to Sam, without question.

  Sam closed his eyes, fingering the smooth Watcher Stone in his palm as fear began to creep over him. Arazel’s piercing green eyes flashed through his mind, his words rolling in his ears as if he were right next to him. The Prince of Darkness, the ruler of Sheba Haloth.

  It was about to become true, for he was about to open the floodgates of all Dark creatures into Earth from the spiritual realm. He would be the champion of the Darkness, the hero of the Metim. What if his father was wrong? Maybe he was only hoping it would help the Light, but what if he was mistaken? What if the curse was not truly lifted and the Darkness still hid until they grew too large to stop? What if … his father wasn’t who he said he was? Ayet Sal was the place of deception. What if this whole
thing was a lie? Could it have been Arazel disguised as his father? Dark Watchers could manipulate Darkness just as Descendants could the Light …

  But he remembered the sensation when his father touched him, and the visions of his mother running through the field. He couldn’t deny the powerful feeling it left him with. But wouldn’t it be possible to mimic feelings as well?

  He fought with these thoughts in the dark bookstore, the moonlight casting an eerie glow through the window, while particles of dust danced around the quiet moonbeams. Once he made a decision, there would be no going back. There was only the aftermath and consequences from his choice, whether good or bad. Who would suffer because of his choices?

  He remembered the moment he met the Chancellor, and the power that the curse had over Lior, even to the point of deceiving the Protectors guarding the Chancellor. The guard who let them into the Chancellor’s chamber had seen a moment of the Darkness that Talister had carried back with him unaware from the Seer Chamber, but chose to believe the status quo instead of challenging authority. A moment, one moment, where the Darkness reared its ugliness, and it was dismissed. How much more would be revealed because of the opening of the gate?

  He breathed in and out, soaking in the silence of the moment. He lifted his face upward toward the heavens, opening his eyes once again. His heart beat a million miles a minute, and he reached out in front of him toward the opening in the arch, placing the small smooth Stone in the opening…

  ***********************

  Nearly a thousand kilometers from the Jester’s Pass arch in Lior, another figure wearing a deep blue cloak walked up the stone steps to the gleaming white castle of stone. Instead of waiting for the guards to stop him, he immediately withdrew a brilliant steel sword from his belt and, in one sweeping motion, removed their heads from their bodies. Then he casually strode into the great hall and threw his sword down in front of the platform where a robed man with glassy eyes was reading from an ancient scroll.

 

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