Nothing good, he thought. “Do you want to know what I dreamt about?” he said, giving her the best smile he could. “I dreamt you and I grew old together. We got a farm on one of the islands off the mainland. We had children. A boy and a girl. And Torjan was there with us also. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”
“It would be. But that’s never going to happen, is it?”
He stared back wordlessly, before a voice saved him.
“What’s the plan, Syros?” Bora asked, stepping forward. Its once strong body had become skinny and weak.
“I-” he began, before he heard a loud clanking sound. Shocked, he noticed the drawbridge lowering in front of them.
What happened? Had the humans decided to let them in? Warily, the horde moved forwards. Human bodies lay across every inch of the interior. There must have been at least fifty dead humans, all dressed in military uniforms, and above the carnage stood the Venians, their large emerald eyes as wide as their malevolent grins.
“You didn’t have to kill them,” Syros told one of the Venians directly near him.
“No,” the Venian agreed, its expression becoming delirious. “No. We didn’t…”
The throng behind had joined them inside, their faces shocked. Yells could be heard as they saw the Venians along with the piles of dead humans.
“The night of Sechen’s passing is approaching,” the Venians whispered, beginning their journey downwards. “We shall be seeing you soon.”
“What do they mean, Sy?” Saniya said, looking up at him.
“Nothing,” he returned, his stomach feeling violently ill. “Don’t worry about it.”
“What do we do now?”
He knew what he was going to do. I’m going to find Ed, he thought to himself. I don’t care if I have to search this entire land. I’m going to find Ed, even if it’s the last thing I ever do.
The Golden Generation
Ira sat alone upon a boat drifting across the slow-moving tides of the great Asterleigh Lake; sighing to himself, he reeled in his fishing rod. It had been close to four hours, yet he was still to catch one fish. He gave a glance down to the bucket – bait was quickly disappearing and night was fast approaching. It was now or never. He searched skywards to the Medzu statue. The stars had begun to appear behind the effigy in the clouds; the celebration of Sechen’s passing was going to be beginning soon. They can wait, Ira reasoned to himself. There is always time to drink. He had hired a small boat and rowed out here by himself. He liked the water; he enjoyed its calmness and he appreciated the time he got to reflect. Plus, the scenery was unbeatable. The night was in its twilight stage. There was no better time to cast a gaze towards the great God in all its miraculous wonder. Kissing his knuckles, he raised his fist to the air and prayed that Medzu would bring him luck.
As Ira rowed back to shore, he could make out a figure in the distance waiting for him. After he made it to the silky yellow sand, he could distinguish who it was.
“Any luck?” Fergus smiled, after Ira planted his feet upon the golden particles.
“None,” Ira grieved. “Not one damn fish.”
“Oh well.” Fergus moved forwards to embrace his friend. “Perhaps your luck will come later. I hear Jung has arranged quite a spectacular night for us.”
Ira laughed. “If I know Jung, then I’m sure whatever he has planned involves a plethora of alcohol.”
“I’m sure that it does,” Fergus chuckled. “Well, you’ve deserved it, friend. It’s been a very strenuous year.” He studied Ira for a moment before continuing, “What do you think about?”
“What do you mean?”
“When you’re off on your own… what do you think about? You have always enjoyed your privacy. Even when we were growing up in Madale. At first, I thought I was just bad company, but even after we moved to Asterleigh, and even now that we have made so many new friends, you always make these arrangements to be by yourself.”
Ira kept silent, which gave Fergus enough time to continue.
“Thinking about how you can save us mere mortals?”
“Sometimes I think that it’s all for nought,” Ira admitted. “That our teachings are falling upon deaf ears. There still seems no end in sight to the war, even after all we have done.”
Fergus gave his short brown goatee a caress. “The people hear you more than you may think. Many are coming around to our way of thinking. We have planted the seeds into their minds. They now know this doesn’t have to be the way things are. That their children don’t have to be sent to a war that shows no sign of ending, to face an enemy many have never met. Your message is persevering, friend. You have become famous in this city.”
“Yes, well, we don’t do it for fame, do we, Fergus?”
“No,” Fergus agreed, “of course not. Who needs to give the military more reasons for beatings, eh? That’s the problem with becoming a prophet, there will always be those who wish to silence you.” Fergus grabbed him by the shoulders. “Come now, Ira. Tonight shall be a time to forget all that. Let’s go; the others are waiting for us.”
They walked through the streets of Asterleigh; people swarmed the streets in a joyous party atmosphere. As Ira and Fergus moved down one particularly narrow alleyway, a group of military personnel, who had previously been all smiles and drunken laughter, became silent as they noticed the two men walking towards them.
“Watch out… this may be trouble…” Fergus advised quietly.
As Fergus and Ira moved past, the stockiest of the military men violently pushed against Ira with his shoulder, knocking him to the ground.
“Coward! Friend to the savages…”
Fergus lifted him back to his feet. “Come, Ira… just ignore them.”
However, Ira had been in this situation plenty of times before, so he knew that a beating was soon to take place. The men had a mixture of rage and disgust across their faces, but to his surprise the group carried on, moving past them and into the centre of Asterleigh. This must be my lucky day, Ira thought to himself, watching the men as they sauntered down the stone-cobbled street. Perhaps his prayer to Medzu had not been in vain.
They eventually reached a tavern known simply as Oedipia’s Temporal. Strange name for a tavern, Ira pondered to himself, whenever he saw the golden sign. With a slight push from Fergus, the doors opened and in walked the two men. The tavern was busy and rambunctious with loud hearty laughter, with men and women in each corner of the bar. It was not hard to find Jung, as like most drunken evenings, and even in a room filled with so many people, his voice carried the loudest by far. Jung noticed them as they entered and, with a beaming smile, he moved forward to embrace them both.
“Happy New Year, dear friend. Sorry to say I did not wait for you. I must admit I have already had a few…”
“Settle down, Jung.” Ira chuckled. “The night is still young; one day you may find that your drinking gets the better of you.”
“You are very wise, very wise…” The full-bearded man staggered back and forth as he nodded. “Your words have never been lost on me. Not like those pricks over there.” Jung gestured to a group of men wearing red military uniform with gold braid, sitting together at one of the tables on the opposite side of the room.
Ira shook his head. “My dear Jung… what kind of message does it send if we go around getting into fights? How will that help our cause?”
Jung growled. “Bahhh… out of respect to you, my brother, I shall keep my distance…”
“Thank you. Now, let us drink and be merry.”
Hours passed by inside the tavern; Ira was surprised by just how many people came up to him to offer their words of praise. There were now many who sat at his table – it had been as Fergus said, it appeared he had become quite the celebrity within the golden-laced city. Then, Ira noticed her; a woman had walked into the tavern, her long blonde hair swayed with every footstep, her e
yes so full and radiant that in this moment Ira knew that she was the girl he was going to marry.
“Who is she?” Ira marvelled, watching the woman as she walked to the front of the bar.
“Are you okay?” Jung laughed, as the men at the table searched for the woman that Ira had spoken of. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this. How are you feeling? Perhaps it’s best if you went home to bed.”
“She is beautiful…” Fergus uttered, as his eyes too locked on the woman.
“That’s the woman I’m going to marry.”
“Not if I marry her first.”
Ira turned to Fergus. “We’re in quite a predicament, friend.” He brought out a single golden coin. “Well, what do you say, brother? A single toss of the coin to determine our fates. Heads I talk to her, tails for yourself.”
As he searched Fergus’s expression, he could tell the man was worried. “Okay,” Fergus replied after a moment. Tossing the coin into the air, Ira felt relief run through him as the golden piece landed upon the table, head side up.
“Yes!”
“It’s just as always…” Fergus grimaced, taking a deep sip of ale, before slamming the empty glass back upon the table. “The great Ira always gets his way… all of the recognition…all of the luck…”
“Better luck next time, friend,” Ira smiled, giving Fergus a pat on the shoulders, before promptly getting up from the table.
The unknown woman was standing alone. Ira was surprised at how no other suitors had moved in. Not wanting to waste any time, he quickly made his way over.
“May I buy you drink?” he asked.
The woman’s deep amber eyes locked on his own. “Why yes, Ira, you may.”
“You know my name?”
“But of course, who does not know of the great Ira, traitor to his own kind and sympathiser to the savages.”
“I’ve heard worse.”
“Yes, so have I. I was merely being kind.”
“What is your name?”
“Orla.”
“A very beautiful name, if I may say so.”
“I hear you are a strange man,” Orla studied him from head to toe. “A strange man with strange ideals. It appears you are completely loathed by some and utterly adored by others.”
Ira grinned. “What side are you on?”
“I’m not sure,” Orla returned his smile. “I’ve only just met you…”
“Well then, how about we do this again, say this time nex-” A loud crash and angry yells caused everyone in the tavern to stop in their tracks. Ira turned to see that Jung had one of the military men caught within a headlock and an enormous fight had broken out between the two groups.
Ira let out a sigh. “He told me he wasn’t going to do anything…”
“Friends of yours?” Orla’s eyes widened, shocked at just how violent the exchange of blows was becoming.
Ira shook his head. “Sadly, yes… if you would excuse me, I must sort this mess out.”
“Until next time, friend of the savages.”
“Yes, until next time.”
As he made his way over to the brawl, he heard the tavern doors shut. It appeared that Fergus was no longer here among them. He reached in his pocket, retrieved the coin and studied it before giving one last glance towards Orla. He wondered just how lucky he had truly been this night.
A full year passed by and, as Ira had predicted, it was the day of his wedding to Orla. He watched the guests arriving and was saddened to see that his oldest and dearest friend had not come.
“Did you send word to him?” Orla caressed the back of his shoulders.
“I tried… but I have no idea where he is.”
“I’m sorry, my love. But we best not let it spoil our day.”
“No. Best not.”
“Anyway, it appears that somebody else wants your time…” Orla gestured to a young, short, pear-shaped man who was waddling his way down the hall wearing what Ira assumed was an exceedingly expensive black suit. As the man got to within a couple of yards, he fell nervously to one knee.
“Ira…” The man spoke in reverence, keeping his stare fixed upon the ground. “It is an honour. Forgive me. But to meet one’s heroes, a man who could truly be called an equal of the five great gods of mythology. I’m afraid I am awestruck.”
“Get up, Luther,” Ira pleaded. “You’re embarrassing me.”
Luther lifted his head and awkwardly got to his feet. “It is an honour to meet you as well, my lady,” he said, facing Orla.
Orla laughed. “My lady? I am not royalty, young man. I work in a bakery.”
The short chubby man’s face reddened. “Ira, I must confide something in you. Your teachings, they mean a great deal to me. I lie awake at night thinking of what you say; the world is a wicked place, filled with wicked people, sometimes I feel like I can’t take it. The sorrow, I mean, it follows me constantly, like a shadow being cast from an eternal sun.”
Ira placed a hand upon Luther’s shoulder. “Do not despair, friend, for one day soon the suns shall both rise, illuminating the darkness – and the new age shall be ushered in; as our dissonance reaches its most violent and bloody, it shall come, and then a glorious light shall engulf these lands, curing all of our collective sorrow.”
Luther’s eyes watered, and if Ira was not mistaken, he could hear the man weeping as he waddled away.
“Is he going to be okay?” Orla asked, after she was sure Luther was out of earshot. “He seems a little obsessed…”
“Luther was born to a rich tycoon off the mainland. Money is all he’s known. He will never love the common people, or they him, for he has never been among them. Though his heart appears to be in the right place.” He gave his bride-to-be a wide grin, as he placed his hand upon her belly. “So?” he asked. “A boy or a girl?”
“A girl,” Orla responded, after a moment’s thought.
“Yes,” Ira agreed. “I think you may be right.”
Twenty years had gone by. Ira stood in front of Orla’s grave, the wind swirled around him as he placed the red roses upon the headstone. As he stared at the burial place, he remembered all the moments they had shared together and all the moments they had missed.
“I wish I’d had a chance to meet her…” said Karina, placing her head upon her father’s shoulders.
“The day you were born was the happiest I had ever seen her. I know it hasn’t been easy on you, all these years.”
“You have been a great father,” she told him. “I couldn’t have asked for a better role model. Not only for me, but for Syros also.”
Syros was holding onto his mother’s hand. Ira knelt upon one knee to face the young lad.
“You’re going to be a brother soon, Syros. That’s a lot of responsibility.”
The lad acted shy whenever Ira was present and sheepishly hid behind his mother. “So…” Ira spoke to Karina. “Have you heard any news?”
“They say it’s going to be a boy.”
“Have you thought of a name?”
“Ednon.”
“Ednon…” Ira repeated. “I can’t wait to see what kind of man he grows into. You have a long life ahead of you. I’m sure they will both grow up to be kind, gentle and wise. Are you happy, my dear?”
“Yes, Father. Very.”
“Good, then that makes me happy also.”
Ira was back in his cottage in his home of Jovian. And in the flickering candle fire, he got out one of his many paintings of Orla and caressed the picture. A storm was brewing outside; he could hear the roars of distant thunder yet, despite this, he felt content. Just as he leaned back upon his chair, his mind and body drifting off into the dream world, he suddenly heard loud banging against his door. Wondering who it was that wanted his time, Ira got up from his chair, made his way to the entrance and slowly opened the door.
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“Ira, can I come in?” Fergus spoke, the harsh downpour from the torrent drenched the man from head to toe. Ira studied his friend’s face – he was now old and grey much like himself. After all these years apart, Ira didn’t know how he felt in this moment, but if he could have described it, he would have said he was overcome with joy.
“Yes, Fergus,” Ira said, opening the door further. “Please do…”
21
Transcendence
1 Day until the New Year
It was the morning before the night of Sechen’s passing. I must get to Ira’s grave soon, Ednon thought, as he scanned the skies to see black rain-clouds heading over the mountains. He had already bought the flowers earlier that morning from the florist girl he now knew as Dashera. He continued to walk through the packed streets, past the Central Asterleigh School, when a hand grasped his shoulders from behind.
“Good morning, young master,” a low familiar voice spoke in his ear.
He turned his head to see it was none other than the exceptionally massive Memphis holding onto him, preventing any movement.
“Memphis!” Ednon stammered in shock. “I thought the military had caught you?”
“They tried, young master.” The Elder gave a menacing smirk. “They broke into my home, but only to find a highly shocking surprise… One with a most explosive quality.”
“I-” Ednon began. He did not know what to say. He thought all the Elders apart from Luther had already been apprehended. Memphis had always scared him, but never had he been so close. In this moment, Ednon now realised he was utterly terrified of this man.
“Young master, I must ask that you follow me. It is of the greatest importance.”
“Why? What is it?”
To Tame the Sentry Being Page 22
